


Catalyst

by moodee1249



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27816997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodee1249/pseuds/moodee1249
Summary: After repeatedly being embarrassed by her boss, Sansa Stark decides to resign from her position at Red Lion Enterprises. Just when she thought life was about to become much simpler, she becomes unexpectedly entangled in a Lannister family crisis and thrown into frequent, close proximity to the Great Lion himself.
Relationships: Harrold Hardyng/Sansa Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tywin Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 36
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> My first TySan fic.  
> A humble Christmas offering to you all.  
> Here's a snippet: She was just wondering why the elevator was taking so long when he looked up suddenly and caught her obviously staring at him. He stopped what he was doing and gazed at her menacingly at first but after a moment it softened to something else. Sansa felt like a deer in headlights. Should she wave? At the most intimidating man in the country? After just dropping off her resignation? Definitely not. Then the chime signalled the arrival of the elevator and distracted her from her indecision. She reverted back to autopilot and flashed him a warm smile before disappearing out of sight.

** Chapter One **

For about the hundredth time, Sansa Stark was contemplating the reality of having accepted the wrong job offer. She didn't have a high opinion of Petyr Baelish, but she was also pretty sure she would never have found herself in the back of a limo trying to feed him very strong coffee while he changed out of a bright green mankini on the way to the King's Landing Court Complex. When she'd left home that morning she had been really looking forward to the day. She could hardly wait to see the self-righteous smile wiped off Daenerys Targaryen's face when her lawsuit against Red Lion Enterprises was thrown out because of some excellent incriminating evidence that Robert would be producing during the hearing. As it was though, Sansa thought they'd be lucky if Robert didn't perjure himself or pass out in the courtroom. She had called Tyrion to let him know the state of things but it went through to voicemail, as it often did on a Monday morning, and Sansa had a sneaking suspicion that Tyrion might also have been wherever Robert was last night. She suddenly felt very foolish for not having anyone else’s number in her phone.

“Fuck me, why do these shirts have to 'ave so many fucking buttons? Here, can you see if they're crooked?” Sansa had been determinedly looking out the window while Robert extricated himself from the hideous swimsuit, but now as she turned to inspect the buttons of his business shirt, she wondered how a man who was not functioning highly enough to put his own shirt on was going to emerge victorious from a legal dispute with the sharpest, perkiest little heiress in Westeros. If Daenerys was successful at this hearing it would mean she got to reclaim a huge tract of land from Red Lion. It wasn't just any old tract of land either; it was slated for their new flagship mixed use development - a billion-dollar project that had been years in the planning. Tywin Lannister, who was famous for regularly engaging in the corporate equivalent of ripping people limb from limb, was going to be furious with Robert and by proxy, furious with Robert's Personal Assistant whose job it was to mitigate these sorts of debacles. Fortunately, they (Sansa) had found hard evidence of Daenerys’ brother blatantly bribing the local councillor to support his fraudulent claim that Red Lion was encroaching on a heritage site. In this game of big business, everyone had the councillors in their pockets somehow, but there was an acceptable level of subterfuge that had to be observed and the Targaryens were disrespecting the game terribly. However, it would count for naught if Robert wasn’t able to stand up straight and deliver their defence effectively in the court room. Billionaire developers who made a habit of having unsubstantiated cracks at the local government were frowned on by the legal set.

As Robert fumbled with his belt buckle and tie, Sansa tried to remember what state her resume was in. It had been less than two years since she’d applied for this position, so there wouldn’t be too many cobwebs. For what it was worth, Sansa was actually excellent at doing her job. This would be the first blip on the radar for months, which wasn't bad considering that during that time Cersei's much publicised relationship with Euron Greyjoy had begun and Cersei and Robert’s divorce had been finalised - in that order. Robert had been fit to murder people on several occasions and it had only been Sansa's cool head that stood between him and a PR disaster. This gave her little comfort though as they pulled up at the court complex.

The thing about averting a crisis was that nobody really heard about it. A crisis though, a crisis draws attention. She had hoped that Robert would realise his incapacity and be content to remain in the car while they figured out who they could replace him with at short notice, but alas, his liquid breakfast had him feeling quite energetic, apparently. He barely waited for their driver to park before stepping into the morning sunshine - quickly thrusting his hand out to Sansa for his sunglasses. “Are you sure you didn't want to keep them waiting? It worked so well with the Martells the other week?” She felt foolish trying to reason with him while he was so clearly inebriated. He strode off purposefully, narrowly avoiding the water feature, and Sansa had a brief flash of optimism that this might be one of those times that Robert was able to simply charm and bluff his way through to a miraculous outcome. Perhaps the judge would be a middle-aged woman with low self-esteem? She followed briskly behind him and when they arrived outside their room, Sansa's heart fell. Judge Barristan Selmy was a man of outstanding character. He had never liked Robert, nor would he find it the least bit charming that Robert was entering his courtroom drunk and disorderly.

Sansa was gazing longingly back in the direction of the car when a terrifying sight came into view. Striding purposefully up the corridor towards them was Kevan Lannister and at his side, the perpetually intimidating figure of Tywin Lannister. _Perhaps Tyrion had made it into work after all?_ The two men made a striking impression, both tall, broad shouldered and impeccably dressed. She had always thought that Kevan actually looked like the older of the two, the years having been slightly less kind to him, but then again, he also always looked much happier. On this occasion, Kevan looked determined and Tywin looked fit to kill someone. People were moving out of the way for them, as they usually did. Sansa had only been in the same room with Kevan maybe a dozen times, mostly on the rare occasion that they had large gatherings of staff, and Tywin she saw more often in the news than she did in person, despite the fact that they worked in the same building and were members of the same broad social circle. Neither man seemed to have much inclination to interact with Robert and when it was necessary, the Great Lion usually sent his brother. Sansa suspected that Tywin only still employed his now former son-in-law because getting rid of him would mean losing important business connections in the Stormlands. Sansa regularly found her way clear to feel sorry for Robert, which was perhaps why she was still there, but she doubted very much that Tywin Lannister had a sympathetic bone in his body.

Standing there, Sansa knew that none of this was her fault and yet she couldn’t help but feel like she was about to be hauled over the coals. Her face was on fire – she’d long given up trying to prevent this and accepted that it was the universe’s distinctly unfunny way of keeping her honest. She gripped the folder she was holding with such strength that she was likely damaging it, but at least it would hide the trembling of her hands. A tiny voice in the back of her mind said it was a relief that the hearing was certainly not going to be a catastrophe now, but on the other hand it was utterly embarrassing to find herself in this situation. It was all well and good to collect a handsome pay packet and rub shoulders with the corporate elite of Westeros, but constantly having to deal with drama was grating on her. She couldn't help feeling that this incident had eroded another chunk of her professional integrity. She tried not to stare at the two men as they approached, attempting instead to call Robert’s attention to them, since he had wandered off to flirt with the clerk. When they arrived, Tywin went to stand beside Robert, who didn’t look nearly frightened enough to see him. The younger man smiled nonchalantly and tilted his head and eyebrows as though they’d just run into one another in a bar. The great lion paused briefly, leaned in a little so he would not have to raise his voice, fixed Robert with the most menacing facial expression that Sansa had ever seen and said without preamble, "leave. Now."

Sansa was a bit surprised when Robert didn’t argue the point. Perhaps he was sober enough to realise that his career hung in the balance. He wasn’t happy though and he stomped off towards the car without another word. Sansa kept her eyes on Robert’s retreating figure, so as to avoid eye contact with either of the Lannister men. Then she heard the golden lion speak again. “Ms Stark, you did well to notify us of this situation.”

She had to look at him now. It would be rude not to. She mustered all the poise she could, raised her eyes to his level and said, “Yes, sir.” Her gaze only lingered for a second on his remarkably green eyes before they both looked away. She had a brief thought that he seemed just as uncomfortable as she was in that moment, though she couldn’t imagine why. She then turned to Kevan and offered him the folder she’d been holding and he nodded his head in thanks. If he noticed the massive crease where her hand had been, he didn’t let on.

The ride home was colourful as Robert's compromised brain tried to process what had happened. He then spent a few minutes on an expletive-ridden tirade against his former father-in-law. Sansa thought the highlight was when he shouted, “I’ve had as much as I can take of these fucking Lannisters. Every single one of them can go and fuck in a dying hole for all I care.” She dared not laugh, because he didn’t seem to notice at all what he’d said, but it did take the edge off some of the tension for her. She had accepted this job as Robert’s Personal Assistant despite opportunities in both her father's company and Baelish's. Why? Well because Red Lion was the largest, wealthiest company in Westeros and Sansa couldn't think of a better platform for her career. Besides, she really didn't want to return home where it was cold and miserable 10 months of the year and she genuinely found Petyr Baelish creepy as hell.

Working for Robert had its better moments; she’d certainly laughed a lot. But she knew it couldn’t really make up for all the other garbage that she’d had to suffer through. He could be a very sweet man, her uncle Robert, but as an employer he was rubbish and Sansa had become increasingly embarrassed being the one constantly by his side. She knew today’s incident had to be a catalyst for change. It wouldn’t do any good to hang around in this job when she knew it was leading her further and further away from the kind of professional and personal life she actually wanted to be living. She craved simplicity and although her career was important to her, she wasn’t prepared to sell her soul for it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

There was an unmistakeable air of relief about her as she sat at her desk that afternoon typing her resignation. Though it had always given Sansa a bit of a thrill to walk through the doors of Westeros' most impressive company each morning, having to babysit a middle aged adolescent had eroded a bit of her dignity with each ridiculous truth she'd had to bend or mess she'd had to clean up. She felt that Robert's employment was on shaky ground now and she would much rather avoid having a termination of employment on her record. This job had paid very well and so she wasn't afraid of being unemployed for a little while until she found something new. In desperation she could always head back home and take a job at Stark. She knew this made her very fortunate really, and she was determined not to slip into any kind of indulgent self-pity. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

He knew the hearing with the Targaryen girl was this morning. Initially he'd been sceptical, to say the least, about letting Robert handle it, but he couldn't deny that Robert got a real fire in his belly when it came to the Dragonstone Group and most of the time it was quite effective. Tywin had honestly felt that this, in combination with Miss Stark's highly competent management of everything to do with Robert, would most likely ensure a positive outcome. What he had not anticipated, and now that he thought about it, he really should have anticipated it, was that Robert would engage in a boozy bender on the night before the hearing and throw the whole operation into jeopardy. Fortunately, it had become Tywin’s habit some years ago to always check his youngest son's voicemail on a Monday morning. It was a well-established fact, much as it pained Tywin, that Tyrion never came into the office before lunch on a Monday. It was fortunate that Tyrion was a shrewd and productive businessman in the time that he did spend in the office, or he'd have been out on his arse before he knew it.

When Tywin had checked the messages that morning there had been a few inconsequential ones and then a slightly panicked one from Miss Stark outlining Robert's state of inebriation and her consequent fears about the hearing. Usually Tywin would have just sent Kevan to deal with it. He knew he'd have handled it perfectly well. There was nobody Tywin held in higher esteem than his younger brother. But as it had become part of his routine over the last two years to surreptitiously keep an eye on Sansa Stark, he found himself unable to resist this opportunity to come to her rescue, as it were. The fact that he'd also get to ruin Daenerys Targaryen's day was an added bonus. 

He couldn't put a finger on precisely what it was about Sansa Stark that had him fascinated with her, but as he'd covertly watched her from afar he'd noticed a great many of her attributes and none of them had done anything to quell the attraction he had to her. He was certain she had no idea he'd been watching her - she wasn't a naturally suspicious person and he'd been careful not to catch her attention. He knew his place and he wouldn't harass her or embarrass her with attention that he could only assume was unwanted, but there hadn't been anyone else to catch his eye in many years. What was the point of being the richest and most powerful man in the realm if he couldn't indulge his boyish fantasies every so often? And so off he went to the court complex with Kevan, hoping for a nervous thank you or perhaps one of those delightful blushes that she was apt to give him on the rare occasion that they did come face to face. That would be a sufficiently warm memory to get him through some tedious meetings this afternoon and another lonely evening in his penthouse.

She didn't disappoint him either. There she was, standing at the end of the corridor looking as though she'd like the ground to crack open and swallow her up. She was dressed in a modest, professional, knee length slate coloured dress. Her hair was pulled back in a bun and she wore a pair of unnecessarily high heels which complimented the outfit perfectly. One of the things he liked most about her was that she seemed completely unaware of how exquisite she was. His world was full of women trying to use their feminine resources to climb the social ladder. Most of the men they ended up with were either foolish misogynist types or amoral social climbers themselves. They all deserved each other, as far as he was concerned, and he wanted none of it. Tywin Lannister believed a person's qualities ought to speak for themselves, and women who constantly drew attention to their femininity held no allure for him. What drew him to Sansa was that she simply went about her business with grace and efficiency and let her body (which in his opinion was stunning) speak for itself. When Tywin sent Robert back to his car he was glad Sansa did not follow immediately. He wanted to thank her for averting the crisis. She looked him in the eyes when he spoke to her and there was a brief flash of something that looked like neither fear or loathing. Then it was gone and so was she, with that efficiency that he so admired but, on this occasion, could have done without.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Sansa was nervous on several levels, some more situationally appropriate than others, as she rode the elevator up to the seventeenth floor of the RLE building. Robert hadn't come in the day after their near miss at the courts and it occurred to Sansa that she could probably get away with just leaving her resignation on his desk and clearing out. She was no coward though and she did want to be able to continue moving around in corporate circles without a disguise, and so here she was, going to hand her resignation to Tywin Lannister.

As it turned out, fate had other plans for her that afternoon, because when she inquired with one of Mr. Lannister's assistants she was told that he was in a meeting for the rest of the afternoon and was not to be disturbed. All she could really do was leave the envelope with the nice lady whose name was Ellyn and hope that it would be acceptable for her not to have delivered it in person. She didn't want to drag things out for yet another day now that she'd made her decision. She’d packed her desk up and she was ready to leave for the final time.

As she waited for the elevator she could see the glass windows of an adjacent meeting room. She was idly looking there when the impressive form of the CEO came into view. She couldn’t help watching him as he paced the room. He was clearly mid-flight in some sort of business deal or negotiation and Sansa found herself unable to look away. His large, strong hands were gesticulating purposefully and his face had a youthful energy about it – he was in his element. She could see the muscles in his neck moving as he spoke and with his jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up, she could also see forearms that could have belonged to a much younger man. Sansa knew he was older than her father, but that had never stopped her thinking that he was very attractive. There was something about a well-groomed, fit and intelligent man that really did it for her. Add to that mix that he was also, to put it mildly, a highly successful businessman and unusually discreet in his personal life, as few in his situation were, and she was apt to daydream about him more often that she would ever admit. She was just wondering why the elevator was taking so long when he looked up suddenly and caught her obviously staring at him. He stopped what he was doing and gazed at her menacingly at first but after a moment it softened to something else. Sansa felt like a deer in headlights. Should she wave? _At the most intimidating man in the country? After just dropping off her resignation?_ _Definitely not_. Then the chime signalled the arrival of the elevator and distracted her from her indecision. She reverted back to autopilot and flashed him a warm smile before disappearing out of sight.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Tywin had been in the middle of firing one of his construction managers when he'd seen her. The man had recently cost Red Lion $200,000 when he'd left a shipping container full of custom-made windows open over the weekend and they'd been stolen. Tywin had assembled his five least experienced construction managers to watch as he tore shreds off the guilty one to make sure they all had the fear of God (him) in them should they ever be so stupid as to do something similar. Here he was ruining this man and Sansa Stark was smiling at him warmly through the glass window. It was enough to make him lose his train of thought. Thankfully, all the occupants of the room were so busy trying not to wet themselves that they hardly noticed. He committed every last detail of her in that moment to memory and locked it away for later as she disappeared into the elevator and he turned back around to finish off the once cocky young man who was now red-faced and shaking like a leaf.

Half an hour later, Tywin checked in with his secretaries on the way back to his office. Ellyn handed him a package that had been delivered earlier, and Sansa’s letter. He took them and asked her to summon Kevan. He left the door to his office open, assuming that his brother wouldn’t be far away, and opened the package. He was waiting for the documents to come through from the solicitors confirming the closure of Danaerys Targaryen’s suit against them. Sure enough these were the letters and he felt a moment of relief to have that matter closed. As much as he was accustomed to challenges and obstacles, he wasn’t beyond appreciating when things fell his way and he much preferred to be able to spend his money on developing Westeros than on taking self-righteous little swots to task in the courtroom. He set the papers on the table for Kevan to look at and he was just opening Sansa’s envelope when his brother arrived, closing the door behind him.

Tywin had not forgotten Sansa’s brief appearance, indeed he hoped that he would remember it clearly for some time, but it did not occur to him that she might belong to the letter until he saw her name at the bottom. He didn’t have to read it to know what it was. No letterhead, plain text, personally delivered on the day after Robert’s buffoonery at the courts. This was a resignation. Without his permission, his heartrate sped up.

The grammar and punctuation were flawless - not as common in his employees as he would have liked. She expressed herself well and took great care not to phrase any of it in a way that might cause offense, although he understood her meaning to be that she had essentially grown tired of trying to fill the role of office parent to an unprofessional, ill-mannered, lothario. _I very much appreciate the opportunities that I have been given at Red Lion Enterprises but I cannot deny that my role has become increasingly complex and not at all like I had anticipated. I regret that my education and experience have not equipped me with the specific skills needed to be a highly effective assistant to Mr Baratheon_.  
  
Fair enough, Tywin thought, but he was nowhere near ready to part with her. She simply needed a better position - one that highlighted the many _very positive_ aspects of Red Lion and preferably one that brought her in closer proximity to him. She was clearly very accomplished and he knew from perusing her employee file that she'd obtained first class honours in her undergraduate double degree. He would talk to Kevan about finding her a more suitable position and hopefully manage to do so without giving himself away. 


	2. Chapter Two

Sansa was actually feeling a great sense of relief on the way home that evening. She’d had time to fit in a pump class before dinner and when Marg texted her to say she'd be home late and she was having a shocker, Sansa decided it was definitely going to be a pizza and wine kind of night. By the time she'd showered and dried her hair, Marg was dragging herself through the front door. “Wine, must have wine,” she gasped. “Don't bother with a glass, just get me a straw.” Sansa laughed and let her best friend unload the troubles of her day while they sunk into a super supreme and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. After Marg had purged the worst of it, they toasted Sansa's newfound liberation from the rich and powerful rubbish heap that was Red Lion and some hours later Sansa went to bed feeling much better about the state of the world.

The next morning, Robb and his wife Jeyne arrived for a visit with Sansa’s 18-month-old nephew, Ned. If she’d been working, Sansa hardly would have seen them for the three days that they were in town, but now thankfully she could spend as much time as she wanted with them. They decided over an excited, noisy brunch, that they would take Ned to the zoo that afternoon and Sansa relished the aunty time while Robb and Jeyne enjoyed having another set of hands to help entertain the toddler.  
Sansa had been walking on air for a full 48 hours when her parents called on Thursday afternoon. “I know it's late notice darling but we're hoping you can go along in our place to the Baratheon ‘Christmas in July’ benefit. It's on this Saturday. I think it starts at 8pm. Your grandfather's taken ill and Uncle Brynden isn't exactly Florence Nightingale. We're going to drive to Riverrun tomorrow and we don't know when we'll be able to come home.”

“Yeah, sure Mum, of course,” Sansa agreed helpfully, despite the fact that she didn’t particularly like big, showy events – and a Baratheon benefit tended to be among the biggest and showiest. She wasn’t about to put even more stress on her mother’s shoulders by whinging like a child about having to go along to an event where she’d be fed a gourmet meal and bottomless champagne worth hundreds of dollars and be warmly praised for handing over a handsome cheque that wasn’t even her money. By the time she got off the phone however, she was in a bit of a panic about being unprepared. By some miracle, when she phoned her hairdresser, she managed to get an appointment on Saturday morning. At least she didn’t have to worry about finding a date - Margaery never missed an opportunity to put herself in the vicinity of wealthy and well-dressed men, and she was more than happy to go along as Sansa's plus one. Loras and Renly would be there, so it had the potential to be a pretty fun night actually.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Having taken the night to consider his position and the best way to handle things regarding Sansa, Tywin arranged a meeting for first thing Wednesday morning with Kevan. Kevan was naturally curious about why Tywin was so concerned about rehiring Miss Stark when she clearly wanted to leave – he’d read her letter of resignation too. He knew better than to grill Tywin on personal matters though and having interacted with Sansa more regularly than Tywin had, he knew her character and skillset made her highly employable. Kevan was content to trust his brother's judgment. If there was more to this story, it would come out in time. Unsure of exactly what his brother had in mind, Kevan first suggested that Sansa might fill the vacancy left by Tywin's recently retired second secretary but Tywin did not seem keen on the idea. He wasn't about to tell Kevan this but there was no way he wanted to become another cliched businessman chasing after his secretary. “It would be better if Miss Stark reported to you than to me,” he said offhandedly and then avoided eye contact with Kevan, which confirmed the younger brother’s suspicions that there was indeed more to this story, but also that they would certainly not be discussing it.

“Well, I had been thinking of putting on another person to help with the international portfolios, since our projects in Dorne and Essos have been flourishing. Sansa’s qualifications are in economics and international business, so perhaps that would be a good fit?”

“Yes, I think that would be ideal,” Tywin attempted to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.

“Shall I call her then and make the offer?”

“No, I can take care of that,” Tywin said quickly, and he saw a flash of curiosity pass across Kevan’s face.

“Right, well I'll put together a role description and contract and have Jerion send it through by the end of the day.”

“Very good.”

“That'll be all then?” Tywin nodded and Kevan made his way back to the elevator and down to his own office on the floor below.

Sitting in his black leather chair, gazing out over the skyline of King's Landing, Tywin reflected on how fortunate he was to have his brother as his right hand man - it allowed him to emerge from conversations such as the one they just had with his dignity intact, rather than having to explain and justify his obviously strange thought processes. Of course, he was sure that Kevan suspected something odd was going on, but he’d never press. It remained to be seen whether Tywin would emerge from his conversation with Miss Stark similarly unscathed. He couldn’t exactly force her to take the job and if she really had bad feelings about her time at Red Lion it was possible he was going to get an earful for his trouble. Still, that would be better than having her walk away without having tried.

Down on level 16, Kevan was doing some reflecting. Mainly he was wondering whether Sansa Stark had any idea what was coming for her. He had little doubt that she'd be very good in the role they were offering her, but situations like this so often ended badly and he was sceptical. Perhaps she would refuse Tywin's offer? It was entirely possible that she already had another job lined up. It could be a blessing in disguise. Kevan had seen his brother's heart break before and it was messy in the extreme.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The first time Tywin tried to call Sansa was an anticlimax. Sansa was enjoying being distracted from her phone and the corporate world by Robb, Jeyne and little Ned. Since she had resigned on Tuesday afternoon and it was now Friday, it hadn't even crossed her mind that she should be expecting a call. She didn't see the missed call until she was about to start preparing dinner.

Ms Stark, it's Tywin Lannister. Please call me back at your earliest convenience on this number.

It was impossible to tell from the brevity of the message and the business-like tone of his voice what he wanted, but she thought it was a bit late in the evening to be calling back. As she began the cooking and sipped a lovely shiraz blend, she pondered what sort of conversation might await her. Was she about to cop it and be dragged over the coals for some perceived negligence on her part? Was he calling because he'd read her resignation and wanted to flesh out some of the very valid points made therein? Not likely. The longer she thought about it, the more far-fetched the possibilities became. There was something about Tywin Lannister that made him catnip to her imagination. She thought perhaps that if she was still unable to distract herself from her curiosities then she might try and call him back after dinner. She had the distinct impression that Tywin Lannister was not a 9 to 5 man anyway.

She was put out of her misery half an hour later when her phone rang again. She and Margaery were in the middle of cooking up a pasta storm and Robb magnanimously took over supervising the boiling of the all-important dinosaur pasta as she grabbed her phone and headed upstairs to get some quiet. “Hello, this is Sansa speaking.”

“Good evening Miss Stark. It's Tywin Lannister.”

“Ah yes, hello Sir. I'm sorry I missed your earlier call. I have family staying with me at the moment and I was away from my phone.”

“Right, well never mind. The reason for my call is to offer you a job. I've read your resignation and you make some valid points, but I also consider you to be a valuable employee and I'd like to offer you a position working under my brother, managing some of our regional portfolios. It seems your skillset would lend itself to the role.”

Whatever Sansa had thought the call might be about, this was not it. She had all sorts of nervous energy coursing through her now and she almost accepted his offer then and there. A clattering down in the kitchen brought her back to her senses.

“Well thank you for the offer. It certainly does sound like a job I'd be very interested in. Do you mind if I take the weekend to think it over?”

She suspected there was a touch of annoyance in his voice when he replied, “Yes, of course. I’ll have Kevan send through the contract and role description to your company email. Your account has not been deleted yet. You can let me know of your decision early next week.”

“Okay, thank you, sir. I do appreciate it. Enjoy your weekend!”

There was a momentary pause. “Yes, you too.” Tywin couldn’t remember the last time he’d told anyone to enjoy their weekend. He also couldn’t remember the last time anyone had told him to enjoy his. Those who knew him well knew that all seven days of Tywin Lannister's week tended to follow a very similar, reliable schedule. Those who didn't know him well were far too intimidated to pass such pleasantries.  
Sansa had said it like she actually meant it though. It almost made him stop and think that he owed it to her to actually try and have a good weekend. Were any of the plans he had likely to fit that definition? He supposed if he got through his morning run early enough to avoid the crowd of tourists that tended to amass near the war memorial that would be pretty good. If he came down with a mystery illness that prevented him from having to attend Cersei's infernal fundraiser on Saturday night, that would be even better. He was a realist though and he considered both of those possibilities unlikely. After lengthy consideration, Tywin couldn't help thinking that the best way to ensure a good weekend would be to spend it in the company of Sansa Stark, if only he could.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Sansa shared the contents of her phone call with the others over dinner. “Are you certain you wouldn't rather just steer clear of the place?” said Jeyne as she flew a helicopter full of dinosaur pasta into Ned's mouth.

“I know what you mean and that's what makes it so difficult,” Sansa replied. “The work would be great, but some of the people you have to deal with are ridiculous! I'm kind of keen for interesting work though. I don't have a gorgeous toddler to hang out with or an overgrown teenager to have to keep in line,” she smirked at her brother, “so it's prime time for career building.”

“Think of the contacts you'd make around the world?” Marg chipped in, “and I bet you'd get to travel heaps.”

Ever the family man, Robb said, “and when we do finally convince you to come home and work with us, you'll know everything there is to know about the corporate bullies at Red Lion!”

Rather than obsessing over it all night, Sansa insisted they speak of other things. She did have the whole weekend to think over it after all and it wasn't a matter of life and death or anything. “Now, what I really do need your opinion on is Jon's new girlfriend.” They all laughed and made their way through the rest of the evening discussing other people's private lives.

When they all rose just after 6am on Saturday morning – a toddler being the world’s most effective alarm clock - it was already looking like it would be a beautiful summer's day. Sansa suggested they take Ned for a walk down to Queen's Park before it got too hot. There were always dogs to watch and boats on the water, not to mention enough grassy fields for hours of running around. Not for the first time, Margaery lamented that her occupation as a Real Estate Agent meant she worked almost every Saturday of the year.

They farewelled Marg and set off down the street. It was a lovely walk and being early, the air still had a clean, crisp quality to it. Sansa was more than happy to take her nephew to the playground while Robb and Jeyne wandered over to the espresso bar to grab three takeaways. She was so engrossed in watching Ned play and making sure he didn't launch himself off anything that she didn't realise she was also being watched.

* * * * * * * * * * *

There were only a handful of days in the year when Tywin would miss his morning run. It was a 6km circuit through Queen's Park and along the waterfront, and unless it was pouring rain or snow or he was gravely ill, he would be there. He preferred to get going around 6:30am but this morning he had received an email that needed his immediate attention and he didn't end up leaving until closer to 7:30. It didn't matter since it was a Saturday. It was a spectacular morning by the bay. The sun was already glittering off the water as it continued on its rise. He was just becoming the slightest bit irritated about the fact that there were more people around to have to dodge than would have been the case earlier when he saw her.

She was unmistakable even from twenty metres away. Her gorgeous copper tresses were bathed in sunlight as she laughed and chased a small child around on the grass beside one of the park's many playgrounds. He couldn't hear her laughing but he could see that she was. His imagination filled in the gap with a sound that was warm and joyful. He was momentarily struck by a horrifying thought that somehow he’d missed the fact that she was already someone’s wife and the mother of a toddler. He was running along the path opposite the playground which afforded him an expansive view but from far enough away that he was sure he'd not be recognised, especially in his cap and sunglasses. He slowed his pace and watched as something caught the little boy's attention and he shot off across the grass with Sansa in tow. Then Tywin recognised Robb Stark and a woman who must be his wife walking towards the playground carrying three coffee cups and a paper bag.

There was a cry as the boy tripped on an uneven patch of ground and immediately he looked around for comfort. In an instant, Sansa had scooped him up in her arms and was wiping away his tears while she appeared to be cooing at him soothingly.  
It was a good thing Tywin was exercising, because it meant his blood was pumping and not pooling anywhere. He could scarcely think of a more arousing image than Sansa Stark carefree and happy in the summer sun with a child nestled in her arms. His imagination was only too happy to conjure an image of her standing on the lawn at Casterly Rock, surrounded by her own children, as they all basked in the sun against the glorious backdrop of the Sunset Sea. Tywin wasn’t really given to daydreaming, but he didn’t mind that particular image replaying itself over and over in his mind throughout the day as he read reports, responded to emails, wrote memorandums and finally, steeled himself for the benefit that night. He was almost compelled to call her again that afternoon with some sort of perk to sweeten the job offer. He wouldn't have her thinking he was weak though, or desperate - two personal attributes which he found appalling. No, he would be patient. He didn't doubt for a minute that she'd be worth the wait.

The ladies had a grand time that afternoon getting ready for Cersei Baratheon's charity fundraiser. Jeyne was only too happy to sip champagne and help them with their hair and makeup while Robb and Ned made a cubby house out of cushions and blankets in the lounge room. Usually Sansa quite enjoyed being the Stark family's representative at one of Cersei's events - for all her underhandedness and debauchery, the woman sure knew how to plan a party. It wasn't ideal that the function would be full of people she had up until very recently been working with, but then again, she had heard that Cersei would be bringing along her new boyfriend which made it very unlikely that Robert would be there. As much as she always hoped to catch a glimpse of a certain broad-shouldered man in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, she also doubted that Tywin would turn up - he was well known for having little patience for this kind of thing.

She still hadn't decided how she would respond to the job offer. On one hand, it was an excellent opportunity and on the other she knew that it would be unwise to enter into a role where her professionalism might be compromised before she even began. Admittedly, it sounded as though she would be reporting to Kevan, but she was sure to come into contact with the CEO more frequently than she had as Robert’s PA. It would be much easier to entirely avoid working in close proximity to anyone she was attracted to, or who made her blush uncontrollably, especially since that meant she could essentially work with anyone else in the whole city.

Margaery had booked a cab for 6:45pm. The event started at 7pm and the venue was not all that far from their townhouse. After putting the finishing touches on their outfits and coming to the logical conclusion that they both looked scorching hot, off they went.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Tywin genuinely abhorred trading false niceties with the Westerosi elite, but he also acknowledged that one couldn't enjoy the various advantages of his position without a few drawbacks. And so it was that he was being driven to the Aegon Targaryen Centre wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo and nursing three fingers of scotch for some manufactured enthusiasm. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that occasions like this would be made exponentially more pleasant if he had someone to endure them with. Perhaps someone young, with porcelain skin and hair like fire. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that she would be there tonight. That thought provided more warmth to his body than an entire bottle of scotch. The Starks were well known for supporting Cersei's fundraisers, even if they didn't care much for the woman herself. There was sure to be a Stark or two there tonight, but it was usually Ned and Catelyn, sometimes accompanied by one or more of their children, but often not.

When he arrived, there was a predictable swarm of photographers. He rose from the back seat of the Mercedes and buttoned his jacket before turning to them. He didn’t smile but they obediently snapped and flashed and without lingering a moment longer than he had to, he made his way into the foyer. He saw Kevan and Dorna standing with Jaime and joined them. A waiter appeared out of nowhere with champagne. Jaime was telling his aunt and uncle about the recently completed KLFD Headquarters which was a seven-storey architectural gem mostly unappreciated by the firefighters who worked there. As an architect, Dorna was very interested to hear the details. “It's quite cold actually, there's a lot of polished concrete and the ceilings are high,” Jaime was saying thoughtfully.

As he stood there, Tywin could see Cersei posing for the media with her new boyfriend. Euron Greyjoy was apparently just as vain as Tywin's daughter and the two of them stood there for an embarrassingly long time having their picture taken in all manner of ridiculous positions. Meanwhile out of the corner of his eye, Tywin spotted something much more to his liking. Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell had just snuck in through a side door. He was pleased to see that the two eligible, stunning young women seemed disinclined to make a fuss of their entrance and instead were keen on keeping a modest profile. Personally, he would like nothing more than a newspaper full of pictures of Sansa, but he hated posers. The two women had their backs to him so his eyes could linger on Sansa's form-fitting charcoal coloured dress, and a creamy slender thigh that he could see enough of to make his pants feel uncomfortably tight. Before long they disappeared into the ballroom and Tywin had half a mind to wander after them. A sense of propriety and some vivid recollections of his father made him stay. He would simply have to look forward to seeing her again throughout the evening.

He tried to think of some legitimate business that he might need to discuss with her parents, assuming they were in attendance also, or perhaps he would suffer through a bit of banter with Olenna Tyrell if it brought him into Sansa's orbit. Either way, the evening was showing some unexpected promise. He hadn't the foggiest idea what Jaime had been saying for the past ten minutes, but at the next break in conversation he suggested they move into the ballroom and find their seats before it became uncomfortably crowded in the foyer. He shook his head once more at Cersei and Euron, who were still with the paparazzi.


	3. Chapter Three

After dinner, Tywin was beginning to think he'd been a bit hasty with his earlier optimism. It had been two hours since they'd entered the ballroom and he hadn't seen Sansa at all. Granted, there were hundreds of people in attendance. When the lights came up on the dance floor, he checked his watch, wondering how much longer he had to stay for the sake of social acceptability. And then he saw her, a vision in charcoal being led onto the dancefloor by Loras Tyrell. Tywin knew the man was gay and still couldn't stand it. They danced several songs, the both of them moving with grace and ease, constantly chatting happily and full of smiles. Try as he might, Tywin was having trouble imagining that Sansa would ever look that happy if she were on the dancefloor with him. He was perfectly able to dance, but he certainly didn't move like Loras.

If that wasn't bad enough, a little while after Sansa left the dancefloor with Mr Tyrell, she was back again, this time on the arm of a blonde man who Tywin didn't recognize - probably a northerner. A very handsy northerner, at that. Tywin had his fists clenched under the table as he watched them. This young man did not seem to be gay. He was making Sansa laugh and his hands were doing rather more traveling around the back of her than Tywin thought was decent. Sansa was graceful and precise in her movements - she had a modest sort of confidence about her. When she spoke with the man she maintained eye contact and when she laughed it was glorious and full-bodied, not some girlish giggle. Tywin decided he'd better stop watching them before he drew blood from his own palms. He got up from his seat and headed towards the bar.

* * * *

When they had arrived it hadn't taken Sansa and Margaery long to meet up with Loras and Renly. The four of them found a waiter with a tray full of champagne and set in for an enjoyable evening of people watching and gossip. There had to be close to a thousand people packing out the Great Ballroom of the Aegon Targaryen Centre. Neither Marg or Renly felt much like dancing, but Loras and Sansa hit the floor when a song came on that they couldn't resist. At one point, Harry Hardyng came over for a chat (and a flirt) and had all four of them feeling a bit flustered really. He asked Sansa for a dance and she thought _sure, why not?_

It was probably the champagne talking, but Sansa was enjoying dancing with Harry much more than she thought she would. He was quite the charmer and he only stepped on her toe once. She was considering the merits of giving him her number at the end of the night when she spotted Tywin Lannister striding towards the bar on the other side of the room. He wasn't facing in her direction but there was no mistaking it was him. He was moving quite quickly and his body language seemed to indicate that he was angry.

After about the fourth song, Sansa noticed Harry's hands were drifting down to an area that couldn't honestly be called her back anymore and she thought she'd better cut him off at the pass before things got awkward. She told him she was parched and could feel a blister coming and he gallantly escorted her back to her friends. Although he seemed keen, he didn't press her for her number and she didn't offer it. They parted politely and Sansa thanked him for the lovely dancing.

She and Marg passed the remainder of the evening happily chatting about Renly and Loras' new dogs and judging the hell out of Cersei when she cut the cake and slurred through a speech, clearly drunk. Sansa gave the boys the lowdown on Robert's latest episode and her employment predicament and before they knew it the crowd was thinning, and it was after 11pm. While Loras and Renly decided to leave via the front entrance – “there's no harm in showing the other men of Westeros what they're missing,” - Marg and Sansa opted to head back out the side entrance. They would get their Uber to pick them up outside the Gelatissimo around the corner, because no great night was really complete without dessert at midnight. As they were leaving, Sansa surreptitiously looked around the room hoping to catch a glimpse of nobody in particular, but couldn't see him anywhere.

Tywin had left about half an hour earlier when he sensed he could get away without causing a scene. His children were becoming inebriated and raucous and he'd endured as many hours of watching other men flirt with Sansa Stark as he could stomach. His head was throbbing and he was very keen for a dimly lit, quiet lounge room and an expensive bottle of scotch. Thankfully, it wasn't a long drive to his penthouse overlooking Blackwater Bay and he idly checked his emails as Addam drove him home. They had just passed through the security gate of the underground carpark when his phone rang. When he saw the name on the screen he briefly questioned whether he was dreaming or seeing things. What on Earth could Sansa Stark be calling about at a quarter to midnight? Surely this was a mistake. He answered, half expecting to hear nothing on the other end, save for the tell-tale bumps and rustles of the inside of a handbag. When she began speaking, it only took a fraction of a second to realise this was serious.

* * * *

It had been when Sansa yawned for the third time in about ten minutes that Margaery declared it was time for them to be heading home. As they rounded a corner on their way to the side exit of the convention centre, they heard the faint sounds of shouting. Drawing closer they could see ahead in the distance a tall, thin young man with blonde hair gesticulating wildly as he shouted at a frightened looking brunette. The woman, younger than themselves, was wafer thin and didn't seem to be trying to defend herself at all. Margaery and Sansa stopped for a minute to decide whether or not to intervene. It was apparent now that the young man was Cersei and Robert's eldest son, Joffrey.

Joffrey was well known for being cruel and violent. This poor girl was in for an awful night. Marg and Sansa could see a group of burly young men standing at Joffrey's shoulder and it put them off the idea of intervening. Sansa started quickly scrolling through her phone trying to think of someone she could call to put an end to the young woman's torment. The fact was that Joffrey was pretty much a law unto himself and with his horrid band of henchmen it was probably only the police or his grandfather who could stop him. Sansa paused when she got to the ‘L’ list in her contacts. Technically Tywin Lannister had not given her his number, but he had called her from his mobile and then requested that she call back with her answer. As her finger hovered over his number she chewed her bottom lip in indecision.

Another group of voices entered the corridor at the other end. Joffrey's younger brother, Tommen, and two of his friends. After a brief pause, Tommen shouted at Joffrey to leave the poor girl alone. Sansa felt her pulse quicken instinctively, sensing what was about to happen. Joffrey and his thugs rounded on Tommen and the frightened young woman, sensing her opportunity, made for the door. Tommen’s two cowardly friends also turned on their heels and bolted. Robert and Cersei’s younger son wasn't known for his street smarts, but he was exceptionally kind. As the first blow landed, Sansa hit Tywin's number.

There was no way this would end well. Margaery dialled the police and the two of them could hardly watch as their dial tones rang and they desperately waited for someone to answer. “Miss Stark. This is rather a strange time to be negotiating an employment contract, don't you think?”

“I'm sorry, it's not that. It's Joffrey, he's attacking Tommen. We're at the convention centre, just inside the Balor St entrance.”

“Right, Sansa, stay away from them. I'm on my way. Has someone called the police?”

“Yes, we're on the line with them now.” Margaery was just giving them their location.

“Tell them you’ll need an ambulance as well.”

Minutes felt like hours as they waited for help to arrive. At one point, Joffrey actually looked around and appeared to see them. Margaery grabbed Sansa’s hand in fear but apparently Joffrey was either too drunk or too stupid to care about being seen, because nobody moved towards them. After what felt like an eternity, there was a distant whirring of sirens. At first Joffrey didn't react, but as the sirens drew closer, he seemed to realise they might be for him and called his boys off. There was a bit of shouting and confusion before they scuttled off into a service corridor. Sansa and Marg waited to make sure they were actually gone before rushing to Tommen.

The sight before them was positively sickening. Tommen's face was unrecognisable and his shirt was covered in blood. The poor guy was whimpering and it was all Sansa could do not to cry as she stroked his hair, speaking soft, reassuring words and trying to give him some comfort. Margaery took off one of Tommen’s socks so that she could use it to try and stem to flow of blood issuing from a nasty cut below his left eye. The police came rushing up the hallway and Margaery pointed them in the direction Joffrey had gone.  
Tywin arrived just before the ambulance and the vision he saw made his heart almost stop. Even from a distance he could see a lot of blood. Sansa was on the floor, cradling Tommen's head in her hands and shushing as you would a babe. The Tyrell girl was there too, holding something to Tommen's cheek. It caused a strange feeling in Tywin's chest. The ambulance officers made a quick assessment of Tommen's injuries and immediately put a call through to the emergency department of King's Landing General Hospital. He was starting to gargle and cough a bit as they loaded him onto the stretcher. Tywin had words with the paramedic in charge before walking to where Sansa and Margaery were now standing, looking positively shellshocked.

Sansa was covered in blood and her face was ashen with fear. Instinct took over and Tywin took hold of her right hand. “Thank you both for all you've done. He's obviously very unwell but he's in the best possible care now. I'll go with him in the ambulance.” He inclined his head towards a very well-dressed man hovering some distance away. “Please let Addam take you both home.” Addam smiled at them and gave a slight nod of his head. “With your permission, I'd like to arrange to have a member of my security detail keep watch over you until Joffrey is apprehended.” Both Sansa and Margaery nodded at this. “Very good then.” He gave a final nod of his head and held Sansa's gaze for a moment before turning and striding off after the paramedics. He had his phone to his ear before he reached the huge automatic doors and Sansa watched him until he disappeared around the corner.

The two women were mostly quiet on the drive home. Sansa was reflecting on the events of the evening and she assumed that Margaery was doing the same. She was rather awash with feelings. She was absolutely disgusted by Joffrey's treatment of his brother and while she didn't realistically expect he would come after them as witnesses to his crime, there was still some fear there having seen what he and his cronies were capable of. Then there was sheer concern for Tommen with his horrendous injuries. His face alone was battered beyond recognition and there was no telling what kind of injuries his torso had sustained. Internal bleeding was highly likely. She felt a strong pull towards the hospital and decided that if she felt up to it, she would go down there in the morning.

Those were the emotions that Sansa was happy with. Then there were others she didn't feel were very appropriate under the circumstances, but had lodged in her mind regardless. Chief among them was an incredible attraction to the man who'd responded so quickly to her call for help and then taken control of the situation with a command that seemed effortless. When she thought about the way he'd so readily taken steps to ensure her safety and that of her friend and then the look of protectiveness and concern he'd given her just before he left, she felt something that would only be described as attraction by the most conservative of people. Considering that they’d both been there in the ballroom all night, she now felt disappointed that their only interaction had been afterward, over the barely conscious body of his bloodied grandson. She knew she had spotted him a couple of times throughout the evening, albeit from a distance. She wondered if he had seen her. She hadn't exactly drawn attention to herself, but she had been on the dancefloor frequently with Loras and then later with Harry.

Sansa was only drawn out of her daydream when she heard Addam's voice from the driver's seat. “Is this the one, ladies?”

“Yes, thank you Addam.”

“I'll just wait here until Clegane arrives, if that's alright?”

“Yes of course.” Sansa knew of Sandor Clegane but had never met him. He was Tywin Lannister's bodyguard for want of a more corporate way of describing it. He was enormous and by all reports the last person you'd want to meet in a dark alley. She doubted that there were all that many times that the Great Lion had needed someone else to defend him, but she wondered how often Sandor was called upon to do what he was doing tonight. To protect someone from Joffrey Baratheon. “Can we get you anything, Addam? A drink of water or a coffee or something?”

“Actually a coffee would be great. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night.”

Addam had stayed outside for about an hour before heading to the hospital. Sansa and Margaery were exhausted and once they'd showered and put their clothes either on to soak or in the bin depending on the state of them, they had no trouble falling asleep. They felt quite secure with Sandor outside and Sansa fell asleep imagining what the burly man's employer might be doing at that moment and how she might have provided him comfort if she were there too.

* * * *

It was a little before 9am when Sansa sat in the courtyard of their townhouse, sipping a coffee. It wasn't a very big outdoor area but it was leafy and sunny - perfect for morning coffee and contemplation. She was deliberating whether it was indeed appropriate to go to the hospital to see Tommen. It had seemed like a very good idea about 9 hours ago, but in the warm light of day she was wondering if she would be better off staying away. It was a pretty delicate family matter and the family was none other than the wealthiest in Westeros. Tommen was probably in some kind of Intensive Care unit anyway, so there was a very good chance she wouldn't be allowed in. On the other hand, she did want to see how he was doing and she wanted there to be no ambiguity around how he sustained his injuries. She suspected that Joffrey got away with doing terrible things all the time and she would hate for this to be one such occasion. Cersei was well known to favour her older son, and the rest of the family, Tywin included, seemed often to sweep his indiscretions under the rug.

She talked it over with Margaery who mentioned that she wanted to head into town anyway to collect some new work clothes she was having altered - Marg often struggled to find tops that fit her shoulders nicely whilst also accommodating her cleavage in a way that was flattering and socially acceptable. It was decided that they would pop into the hospital on the way to the dressmaker and ask after Tommen's condition. If one of the nurses or a receptionist could just give them a general indication of his condition that would be fine. They wouldn't intrude on the family.

As they were leaving the house, they saw that Sandor was still dutifully sitting in his car outside. They thought they ought to check in with him but as they approached the car they could hear that he was on the phone. They were happy to wait. He had the driver's side window down so Sansa could hear the conversation without even meaning to. “Yes boss. Two ticket to Essos, 5pm flight, and the Aston Martin.” There was a pause. Surely there was only one person who Sandor would call _boss_ , Sansa thought as she stood there. “Yes, I'll make sure he gets the insurance.” Sandor hung up the phone and acknowledged them. “Morning ladies. You'll be glad to hear the little fucker and his friends were found by the police at about 3am and are now being kept in the Watch House.”

“Oh, that's good to know. Thank you for staying with us. We appreciate it.” He just sort of grunted in response. “We were going to head into town via the hospital, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Boss hasn’t called me off yet, so I’ll come with you if you don’t mind. Don’t worry I’ll keep my distance.”

Sansa and Margaery made idle chatter as they walked to the train station. It was only two stops into town. “Well somebody's certainly got a nice afternoon ahead of them. Two tickets to Essos and an Aston Martin? Maybe the old man's going to give us a thank you present,” said Margaery with a wiggle of her eyebrows and they both laughed.

Being a Sunday morning, the hospital was quite busy. They were pretty sure Tommen wouldn't be in emergency anymore, so they hopped in the queue at main reception. “Tommen Baratheon ah yes, he's in ward 11. That's an ICU ward so I'm afraid he's not likely to be in great shape. You probably won't be able to see him but one of the nurses should be able to give you an idea of how he's doing.” The man at reception was unexpectedly chirpy.

“Yes of course, that's fine.” They followed the directions they were given and eventually saw a sign indicating they'd arrived at Ward 11. Sansa had always thought that navigating hospitals was much more difficult than it ought to be considering it was mainly sick people and emotional relatives who were trying to get around them. The nurse's station in the ICU ward was unattended, so they waited. Just as the nurse appeared, Sansa heard the unmistakeable voice of Robert Baratheon coming from somewhere down the hallway to their left. “Good morning, what can I do for you, ladies?” The nurse was very pleasant.

“Hi, we just wanted to check on the condition of Tommen Baratheon. We were there when he was attacked last night.”

“Ah you must be the ladies who took such good care of him. Well, I could tell you how he's doing but this man behind you might like to do it instead.”

Sansa turned around expecting to see Robert, but it was Tywin. He was still wearing the same suit from last night complete with the navy tie and there were splotches of blood on what was formerly a crisp white shirt. It struck her that in that moment he looked unpolished. Even being the most powerful man in Westeros can't make you look like a God when you've been up all night and you're sick with worry. His beard and the hair at the back of his neck look ruffled, as though he'd run a hand through it more than once. This only served to exacerbate those niggling feelings that had surfaced overnight. Suddenly Sansa was having visions of helping him out of his gore stained shirt with graceful slow movements and kissing the tension away from his temples. Thankfully, Margaery was not lost in a daydream and she answered his unspoken question. “We wanted to see if Tommen was alright. We were terribly worried about him overnight. We don't want to intrude.” Tywin didn't respond straight away. He looked at Margaery while she was speaking and then his eyes settled on Sansa, whose cheeks were gathering colour as though she'd been caught doing something forbidden. _Enchanting_.

“You're not intruding. You saved his life.” It came out much sterner than he had intended. Force of habit. It was on the tip of his tongue to say that these two women who hardly knew Tommen had been kinder to him in the last 24 hours than some of his family had been in his entire life, but he was loathe to draw even greater attention to the outrageous level of dysfunction in his family. Something was compelling him to try somehow to hide his shortcomings, and his family was certainly a shortcoming, to put it mildly. He gestured to his left and they followed him down a corridor where they could soon see Robert in the distance. When Robert saw them he walked over and enveloped Sansa in a giant hug. He didn't know Margaery half as well and so he clapped a hand on her shoulder and offered her a smile - Sansa thought it odd that Robert would observe social norms now of all times, but then grief does strange things to people. “Thank God for the two of you, eh? Doctors said he couldn't have taken much more.” Robert's voice was thick with emotion and he had tears in his eyes. Sansa wondered whether perhaps he was finally feeling some paternal stirrings? That would be a silver lining on an horrendous cloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive feedback. It's very motivating!


	4. Chapter Four

Through a glass panel, Sansa could see Tommen's prone body almost hidden under layers of blankets, dressings and cords. If they hadn't known who they were looking at, they might not have recognised him. "He had surgery in the early hours of the morning to repair some internal damage." Tywin's voice was steadier than Robert's and after a few moments of shared silence between the four of them, Robert sighed and walked off in the direction of the tea and coffee making facilities. Margaery followed, feeling strangely drawn to comfort a man who she'd previously called disgusting on more than one occasion.

This left Sansa standing quietly beside Tywin as they both looked through the glass without really focusing on what was there. “Clegane told you that Joffrey has been apprehended?” It sounded more like a statement than a question and for a moment Sansa wondered if that was intentional or if it was just a symptom of having people hang on your every word. “Yes, he did. I wasn't too concerned about Joffrey coming after us, but thank you very much for the security anyway, I think it made sleeping easier.”

“You give Joffrey too much credit for indifference, Sansa. You two are witnesses to a crime that he committed and will be held accountable for. What he did to Tommen was for sport. Imagine what he'd be prepared to do in desperation?” He gave her a meaningful look. “I'd like you to consider accepting my security for a little while longer.”

“Okay, thank you.” Sansa seriously doubted that she would refuse him anything at this moment, and he did seem genuinely concerned for her safety.

Tywin thought that the way she spoke and the look in her eyes were almost like she was trying to make him feel better by accepting his help. When was the last time somebody had done that? Certainly, he was used to being obeyed and people liked to see his wishes fulfilled, but always for their own self-preservation. This thing that Sansa did was made purely of a desire to give him some sort of comfort. It worked too, because as they stood there, shoulders almost touching, he felt a sort of calm wash over him. “Joffrey’s always been a monstrous creature. He has a sickening disregard for anyone but himself.”

“Yes, I’ll confess I don’t think very highly of him. Fortunately, we’ve not come into contact very often. Anyone who can do this to their harmless younger brother…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence for them to both understand her meaning completely. “Joffrey was harassing a woman, last night when Margaery and I came upon him. She must have been his date for the Benefit, I suppose. We were keeping our distance and I was trying to think of someone to call to stop him from hurting her when Tommen arrived. He did have a couple of friends with him at first, but when Joffrey’s thugs rounded on them, they ran.” 

“That answers a few questions. No doubt the police will be in contact with you today. Please feel free to be brutally honest.”

“Mmmm.” She nodded. She wanted to say that she doubted it would make much of a difference. She wanted to implore him to see that justice was actually done. She turned to look him in the eyes, silently hoping that he would see the doubt there and feel compelled to do something about it.

* * * *

Cersei arrived at the hospital in a dramatic flurry about half an hour into Sansa and Margaery's visit. The performance she was putting on made Sansa wonder if she had a videographer in tow. Whatever the reason behind it, there was an incongruence between this devastated mother and the fact that she was only just arriving at the hospital now, 12 hours after her son had been admitted with life threatening injuries. Her house was only 15 minutes away. The incongruence was not lost on Sansa and the disgusted look on Tywin's face indicated it wasn't lost on him either. Even Robert, in a moderate state of drunkenness, had managed to respond to Tywin's urgent message within the hour. Robert had been there before they took Tommen into theatre to offer what little comfort he could. Now the once beautiful Lannister heiress was carrying on as though she'd had a limb amputated but was yet to actually ask anyone where her son was.

Amid the ruckus Sansa turned to Tywin, disapproval written all over her face, and said, “We'll go. Hopefully he gets some good rest today.” Her voice was laced with a sad kind of disappointment which made Tywin’s stomach turn. What must she think of him and his family? But there was something else there in her eyes when she looked at him. It was an unselfish hopefulness that was completely foreign to him. As she turned to go, she reached out and touched him on the forearm; her hand was warm and her touch soft. Then she remembered herself and her hands both quickly went to the pockets of her jacket. “Well, I'm glad we were able to help.”

He gave her a nod of his head. “As am I. I'm sure that once Tommen is up and about he'll want to thank you himself.” She'd decided his voice made her think of gravel in honey. She smiled warmly and looked to where Tommen was lying for another moment before turning to Marg who was now standing nearby. The two of them made for the door, hardly noticed by the nurses, who were thoroughly distracted by Cersei. Tywin watched Sansa's graceful form fade from view and thought of how much more pleasant the day might be if he was leaving too. With her. Then he turned to face the bitter reality of his family once more.

* * * *

Since Sansa had agreed to have Tywin's security detail continue to watch over them, a man by the name of Andre Brax took over from Sandor and accompanied she and Marg on their trip downtown and then sat diligently outside the local police station when Sansa and Margaery went to give their statements that afternoon. Around dusk, Sandor arrived to take the overnight shift again. Sansa and Marg made their signature basil and chilli prawn stir-fry that night and Sansa took a bowl out to where he was sitting in the car. She'd briefly thought she ought to be a bit more covert but then decided that actually people knowing there was a burly henchman outside the door was only going to help their cause.

Sandor initially declined the proffered dinner. “No point makin' a fuss over me, little bird. I'll be here whether you're nice to me or not. Old Lion practically shits pieces of gold and gives me more than enough of them to buy meself dinner.” Ignoring the revolting image that comment could have conjured, she insisted he take it. Go on, humour me. It's the first time I've ever had my own security guard and I'm not familiar with the etiquette. If you don’t like it, you can just chuck it out the window when I'm gone. He grunted his acquiescence and took the plate of food.

Feeling like she'd won a little battle, Sansa went back inside wearing a grin. Kevan Lannister had sent through a role description yesterday but in all the drama she hadn’t had a chance to read it yet. After dinner she went to the study and opened her laptop. Before she could even get to her inbox, she was struck by the heavy media coverage of what had happened to Tommen. The story had broken that afternoon. Her homepage was the KL Post and as she scrolled, taking in the magnitude of it, it crossed her mind that neither she nor Marg had been contacted for comment. At that moment, Marg called from the living room where she’d apparently just turned on the TV. “Have you seen this? It’s all over the news!” Sansa walked across the study with her laptop, leaning against the door frame so that Marg could scroll through the coverage. “Weird that nobody has tried to contact us. Great, obviously, but weird,” Marg said eventually, as she gave back the laptop and wandered to the front windows, opening the curtain and peering around outside.

There was no way they were being given their privacy - the media were vultures. “I suppose someone might have filed a court order. It’s really expensive though. I remember when Willas had his accident and grandmother got a court order to stop the media from coming within a hundred metres of any of us. She said it cost a fortune.”

“I can’t imagine Robert having the presence of mind to do that unless Stannis had told him to,” said Sansa. “Cersei doesn’t exactly seem the type to spurn the attention either,” she added with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“My guess would be the old man. It’s a wonder he’d bother protecting us though.” Margaery had stumbled on what Sansa also considered the only possible explanation – though she thought ‘old man’ was a bit unnecessary; he was only in his fifties. Tywin had likely gotten a court order in place to prevent the media harassing them. God only knows how he managed to prevent his family from leaking their names to the press though. She asked Sandor about it when she went out later to collect his now empty plate - trying not to look too smug about the dinner. “I wouldn’t expect anybody to come knockin’ on yer door. They’d be very poor and very sorry soon after if they did.” Later, as Sansa sat curled up in the armchair of her study, she let this new information about the Lannister patriarch settle over her. To have the means to snap his fingers and make this happen in amongst all the chaos was very impressive. To want to protect them, _her_ , from the fiendish Westerosi media was, well it was something else entirely, and quite distracting. She read through the role description three times without taking much of it in. Eventually she gave up and went to bed. A summer storm was passing over and the sound of the rain lulled her into a deep sleep.

* * * * 

It had been past midday by the time Tywin had arrived home from the hospital. He was glad to be away from the relentless noise of the ICU unit. He'd waited for Cersei to leave so that Tommen would not be subjected to her feigned hysterics if he woke up. Once she had gone, Tywin gave the nurses very strict instructions to phone only him in the first instance if anything about the boy's condition changed, and in the unlikely event they couldn't get hold of him they were to contact Robert. A different grandfather might have returned home from the hospital to catch up on the sleep he'd missed overnight, or to call around to concerned family members with an update on Tommen's health. But that was not, nor had it ever been, Tywin's life.

Speaking with Sansa at the hospital had confirmed for him that it was a completely unprovoked attack and what's more, Joffrey’s intended victim had originally been a defenceless young woman. How much longer before Joffrey killed someone? Enough was enough. One advantage of operating at the level of productivity that Tywin did was that at times like these, when he was really not feeling his best, he could rely on muscle memory to kick in. His first call would be to Sandor Clegane and his second would be to the lawyers. It was imperative that neither Joffrey or Cersei see this coming. He had to stay ahead of the curve. He would post Joffrey's bail himself and then send him to Essos ‘to escape the attention’. It didn't really matter how long or for what purpose Joffrey thought he was going for.

It was foremost in Tywin’s mind that Joffrey might seek to eliminate witnesses to his crime. Something felt quite noble about protecting Sansa Stark. She was intelligent, hard-working, resourceful and nice. As far as he was concerned, that combination of personal qualities wasn't very common. Tywin was now certain that Sansa was truly repulsed by his family and nevertheless she had gone out of her way to help Tommen. She was clever enough to know that Joffrey was both very stupid and very dangerous and still she had involved herself. He felt a strong desire to make sure she came to no harm. He did realise that it was probably borne of the other, less pure desire he had begun to feel for her, but still. The fact that it was highly unlikely she returned any of those same sorts of feelings did make him feel a bit more noble.

There was a grim job to be done and it had to be done swiftly. Cersei would no doubt be planning to have Joffrey out on bail by the end of the day, but she was disorganised which gave him time to get in ahead of her. Tywin had reached the end of his patience with the boy. Very nearly killing a sibling was not something that could be overlooked, regardless of what kind of outlandish spin Cersei might try and put on it. The media was already having a field day. The fact that Tywin had quickly moved to ensure the press had to keep their distance had certainly bought them an ounce of privacy, but there was nothing he could do about speculation. Speculation alone had already propelled the story to the top news item of the day. If any of the witnesses were bold or stupid enough to seek out some attention, well there was no limit to the damage that could be done to the Lannister name. Joffrey made no contribution to the family business whatsoever and simply put, was a drain on resources. Tywin had encouraged him to take a commerce degree and find a way to spend his days that was productive but he had decided instead to fritter away his generous trust fund on women, drugs, alcohol and paying thugs to harass people for sport. 

Admittedly, Tywin did feel some guilt about plotting the destruction of his own flesh and blood, though he didn't have time to worry much about it. To be fair, he assumed his soul had been in disrepair for some years now. He had to be rid of Joffrey cleanly and with little to no possibility of collateral damage. Obviously, he wasn't interested in jail time or a murder conviction, so it also needed to be an accident - a very well-planned, highly opportunistic accident. It helped in this instant that he could always count on Joffrey to be reckless, self-indulgent and overconfident. Tywin would simply engineer a situation where Joffrey's worst traits would all be allowed to run their course, simultaneously.

When Joffrey arrived in Essos there would be a high-powered sports car waiting for him at the airport. The car would have some supplies (alcohol) on board. The most expensive and luxurious accommodation on the island was a clifftop chateau that overlooked the Jade Sea on the Western coast. It would be booked for Joffrey’s exclusive use with the promise of _company_ on the days following his arrival. A smarter man than Joffrey would find this sudden generosity from his usually detached grandfather unnerving, but Tywin doubted very much that he’d even raise an eyebrow once he saw the car and held the keys to the chateau. 

Tywin picked up the phone to call Clegane. After making plans and giving his head of security all the briefing he required, Tywin then called the senior most lawyer in his legal team and made arrangements for the bail to be posted. He congratulated Mr Qyburn on the efficiency with which the court order had been filed earlier that day.

Night had fallen by the time all of it was done and after an uninspired evening meal he poured himself a double scotch and sat in his library listening to a summer storm passing by. He had an oversized lounge room decorated with very stylish furniture, but when he wanted comfort he always gravitated towards his library. It was small and cosy and just right for an evening of feeling bitter about the state of things. His family often brought out these feelings in him. He knew he was just as much to blame as anyone for the way his children had turned out but he still deeply resented the fact that none of them had tried harder to become the sort of person he could be truly proud of.

It sickened Tywin to think of Cersei's favouritism towards her menace of an oldest son when her two other children were so much more deserving of a mother's love. Having said that though, it had probably been a blessing that they'd been so little exposed to her.

When his head did hit the pillow that night, he had little hope of getting any actual rest. It was likely he would get the call from Clegane early tomorrow. Even once it was done, there would be weeks of legal rubbish and speculation to deal with. Rather than chase those thoughts around in his head, he let his mind wander to sharing this vast lonely place he called home with someone else, someone who was the very essence of goodness and grace, who would never seek to hurt others, to cause scandal or behave in a manner undignified. Someone who had saved the life of his innocent, if naive, grandson and sought nothing in return. His imagination gazed deeply into a pair of striking blue eyes, vibrant fiery tresses laid dishevelled across his pillows, his hands kneading her planes of perfect, porcelain femininity as she writhed beneath him and moaned his name into the dimly lit room.


	5. Chapter Five

So, Joffrey had been bailed out and whisked away to one of the world's premier holiday destinations. By his grandfather. Sansa had been tossing and turning all night, and not in discomfort either, as she entertained this and that fantasy of being thoroughly 'protected' by the Great Lion, in his bed, on his desk and even against the glass windows of that meeting room. She'd woken up feeling a bit naughty but in a very good mood and had come downstairs to make her coffee only to be hit with an icy cold bucket of water when she flicked on the television.

Here she had been romanticising the man and all the while he'd been plotting to rescue his monstrous excuse for a grandson from having to face the consequences of his brutish behaviour. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. Even aside from her little infatuation, he had seemed so genuine in their interactions. Sansa could have sworn that he was just as worried about Tommen and just as disgusted by Joffrey as she was. It was unsettling to say the least to have been so easily fooled by a handsome facade and a few gentlemanly gestures. The more she thought about it, she was starting to feel a bit queasy. She turned the television off as the reporter outside police headquarters was explaining that Mr Lannister's legal representatives had posted the exorbitant bail fee late yesterday afternoon. She resolved not to watch anymore news today.

She looked out the front window and there was Andre still sitting in the car over the road. Where yesterday that had brought comfort, today it was a reminder of a harsh reality. He was there because Joffrey was capable of anything and probably because Tywin wanted to make sure that she and Margaery didn't try to whip up a media storm. Marg got a lift to work with Loras and Sansa took herself off to the gym, with Andre in tow. She wanted to clear her head and sweat out some frustration. She still hadn't decided whether to take the job or not and this morning's revelation had only made things more complicated. She thought it best to call her parents when she got home, and possibly Robb and Jon as well. She knew she was having trouble seeing things objectively and some unbiased advice would hopefully help.

“So what's the consensus? Take the job or no?” Sansa was talking with her parents. They had her on speaker in the kitchen as they made their lunch. They were still at Riverrun looking after Hoster. His condition was improving but he was impatient about being bedridden. Ned was managing to work remotely for at least a few hours every day and Catelyn had her hands full keeping an eye on her father and giving the house a woman's touch for the first time in a very long time.

Sansa had explained the events of the weekend, which they had miraculously not heard about yet, and her parents had been appropriately concerned about her safety. She assured them that she had Tywin's security keeping watch over her night and day and though this did please them they were still generally very critical of the Lannisters. Sansa had even found her father had become increasingly less patient with Robert Baratheon in the last few years as well, despite their long years of friendship. Hearing some of the tales that Sansa told about his old friend left Ned in no doubt that a son of Robert and Cersei's could be a first-rate menace.

Once they'd hashed out Joffrey's attack on Tommen and related topics, Sansa told her parents about the job offer. “The role is much more in line with my qualifications, not to mention my interests. The salary is very competitive too. I doubt I’d get as much elsewhere with my experience.”

“It certainly sounds like the sort of job you wanted when you were at university, sweetheart. And did you say you’d be reporting to Kevan Lannister? He’s not as bad as the rest.” Her mother was being particularly diplomatic. “Just because you work for them Sansa, doesn’t mean you have to be involved with the family. Now that you’re not babysitting Robert, you really shouldn’t need to see any of them outside of work at all.”

Ned was similarly supportive, “You know I don’t have much time for the Lannisters, Sansa, but even I cannot deny that Tywin Lannister is the King of the corporate world. Working for his company would be the pinnacle of most people’s careers. To have been offered a job like this without even having had to apply for it is a wonderful opportunity.”

“I know. That’s exactly what I was thinking. I guess I just wanted some reassurance that I can take the job and work for them again without my soul being irrevocably stained. When I handed my resignation in the other day it felt like I was taking the moral high ground, you know?”

“I wouldn’t worry yourself too much dear. I mean you’re not marrying one of them or anything. Cersei and Joffrey are the worst anyway and they have next to nothing to do with the business.”

“True. Alright well thanks you guys. I’d better let you both get back to it. I’m going to go and read over the role description once more just to be sure and then give them a call I guess.”

“Okay darling, well take care of yourself and let us know if you’re worried at all about your safety. I’m sure we could get one of your brothers down there for a few days.”

“Will do. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Oh that reminds me, I’ve just booked my flights home for Christmas. I’ll be arriving on the 23rd and home on the 2nd.”

“Wonderful. It’s been so long. Alright darling, best be off.”

“Bye.”

She made a couple more calls to Robb and Jon, who gave her much the same advice as her parents, and ended up deciding that she would take the new job with Red Lion, for herself, her career and her bank balance. She was content to profit from this family of insane monsters, at least for a little while longer.

She called to speak with Tywin but unsurprisingly, he was not there. _Coward_ , she thought to herself as she waited for Kevan Lannister to come on the line. When he did, she kept her tone serious and professional. She told him she accepted the job, asked when they wanted her to start and if there was any reading she ought to do beforehand, then politely bid him good day.

* * * *

Kevan had arrived at the office early knowing that the day, and the entire week for that matter, was likely to be hellish. He had spoken to Tywin at length yesterday and trusted that his brother was taking care of things in the best possible way. There was nothing, however, that he was actually permitted to say to any of the gathered media, or their employees, or the disgruntled shareholders when they all addressed their concerns to him about the latest family crisis. When Sansa called after lunch, he half expected it to be another contractor who had decided to withdraw their services. As it was, Sansa’s voice had none of the warmth that he recalled being there when he had interacted with her in the past, but she accepted the job, which was pleasing.

He told her she could begin next week and then made a note in his diary to organise an orientation folder for her before emailing Tywin to let him know she’d accepted the position. He hung up on another two reporters before going to make a coffee, feeling utterly exhausted.

* * * *

Sansa, on the other hand, was feeling resolute about her decision and glad to have settled it. She set about getting through some jobs that had been amassing on her to do list for months. As much as this wasn’t exactly a holiday, it was the first block of time off she’d had in nearly two years. There was a bit of cleaning to do around the house, the back garden needed some freshening up and she finally booked in to see the dentist after receiving numerous reminder emails.

She noticed that when dusk came, Andre was not replaced by Sandor and instead the black car that had been sitting outside their house for the past few days was gone. It was testament to her level of disillusion with the Lannisters that it didn’t even bother her, though she was a little surprised not to have been notified of the end of the arrangement. Anyway, she hoped it was symbolic of her connection with the whole saga being over. After a few wines with Marg and half a tub of Ben and Jerry’s she went to bed that night with her mind, happily, quite relaxed.

* * * *

Whatever Sansa had expected to see on the front page of the paper the next day when she stopped in at Betty's Beans on her way home from the gym, it was not a picture of a mangled Aston Martin and a headline that read, 'Troubled Baratheon Heir Dead at 19'. Of course, there was nothing about Joffrey being dead that gave her the slightest hint of sadness, but she could not deny the shock that washed over her. Essos. Aston Martin. It was with a touch of nausea that she thought back over the conversation she’d accidentally overheard between Sandor and his employer two days ago. Had Tywin and Sandor killed Joffrey? She wasn't sure whether it made her feel better or worse that perhaps far from being the monster she had reluctantly decided he might be, Tywin Lannister’s warped sense of moral responsibility might actually stretch as far as to allow him to arrange the killing of his own grandson on principle and without compunction.

When Sansa arrived back at the townhouse, Marg was getting ready for work and had the TV on, staring at it with rapt attention as she ate a bowl of cereal. “Authorities found the car at the bottom of the picturesque cliffs with a single male occupant deceased inside. Initial reports suggest that speed and alcohol might have been factors.” As the newsreader continued, there was a ribbon flashing at the bottom of the screen that read, ‘Lannister family embroiled in new crisis.’ Tywin would hate that, Sansa thought before she could stop herself.

“Gods what a bloody mess,” Margaery said as she packed her bowl in the dishwasher. And she was absolutely correct, thought Sansa.

Sansa had arranged a day of pampering at her favourite day spa, which was supposed to be all about relaxation of course, and it was, except that it was also five hours with nothing much to occupy her mind. This meant that while she soaked in the thermal rock pool, reclined in the massage chair for her facial and finally lay on the bed having a decadent, oily rub down, she had very little to distract her from thoughts of a certain tall, silvery-blonde, tycoon.

There was no doubt that she much preferred today’s version of him to yesterday’s, but the problem was that rather than derision and distance, which had felt like mature and responsible reactions, she was now grappling with those other feelings that had surfaced after the incident with Tommen. At least one of the feelings was suggesting she might even perhaps give him a call. He was, after all, probably having one of the worst weeks of his life and she might be able to offer him some sort of comfort, being one of very few people who knew the full extent of what was going on. By the time she got home and did a few of the other jobs on her list, she had thought better of it, even feeling a little embarrassed about the fact that if she’d had her phone on her in that moment of sentimentality she probably would have made a prize fool of herself.

Over the ensuing days, she and Margaery had eventually grown bored with watching the media coverage of the Lannister family train wreck and had been distracted with other things, so when Sansa arrived for work the following Monday, she was shocked by the scene before her. The sidewalk out the front of the RLE building was still three deep in some places with journalists and television crews. Sansa couldn't think of anything worse than having random reporters snooping around in your private business. While there had always been a handful of security guards in the foyer of the building, now there were easily five times as many as she jostled her way through the gathered crowd towards the glass doors.

On her journey to work she'd given some thought to how she would handle seeing Robert this morning if she crossed paths with him. She knew his relationship with Joffrey was dysfunctional at best and he was not a particularly sensitive man, but still, his son had died unexpectedly and any parent was bound to grieve. As it turned out she did not see him, and she heard later that actually he hadn’t been in for a fortnight and nobody seemed quite sure whether that was his doing or his employer’s.

On a similar train of thought, Sansa briefly wondered what Euron Greyjoy made of all this. She doubted very much that there was any underlying substance to that relationship but still, it would be interesting to see if he hung around if Cersei fell violently to pieces - which was definitely on the cards.

* * * *

Working for Kevan Lannister couldn't have been more different to working for Robert Baratheon. For one thing, Kevan was actually there when she arrived at 8am, and nothing about his behaviour suggested that he'd only started early today because he had to show her around. Then there was the fact that Kevan and all the members of his team were professionally dressed and well groomed. When he greeted her with a handshake and a warm smile, Sansa could only smell his very nice cologne rather than alcohol and cigarettes. When he handed her an orientation pack, Sansa couldn't supress a smile and when he raised his eyebrow in question she explained, “definitely the first time I've seen this folder.”

“Ah yes, I imagine it is. I hope this won't be the last time you'll notice a difference,” he said with a grin.

“It's not even the first.” They both laughed. She spent the morning being introduced to the rest of Kevan's staff and by the time she sat down with a coffee and a sandwich for lunch she was feeling totally overloaded with names, faces and information but also undeniably excited about her new position. Nothing about the morning had felt awkward or forced and she had full confidence that she could do this job with her head held high. She knew how to work hard and achieve results, and if her work environment stayed like this, she was prepared to make every effort to succeed.

After lunch, Kevan gave her a file about a gentrification project they had recently begun work on in Sunspear. It was an area that used to be the docks which had fallen into disrepair since the larger, newer port had opened up a mile down the river. The area was full of massive old warehouses that Red Lion had started converting into apartment complexes. Sansa thought the designs looked impressive - vaulted ceilings, exposed brickwork, industrial decor. So far, Red Lion had purchased three warehouses on one block and one of them was almost finished, one was about to begin work and the third was in the development application phase.

When she read the project overview she could see that their goal for this financial year was to complete the three they already owned, purchase two more warehouses and also find a suitable site nearby for a mixed use commercial development. When Sansa matched up her role description with the portfolio she understood that her responsibilities would include everything from finding suitable sites, to submitting development applications, project management and oversight of real estate agents and presales. She would not be working alone. Her team included three others: Celia Marbrand, the wife of Tywin's driver, a man who Sansa recognised immediately as Varys Hillier and Kevan's second son, Willem.

Sansa found out that her first trip to Dorne would be in two weeks when they were going to do a defect check on the newly completed warehouse. She was looking forward to it already. She spent the afternoon completing some OH&S compliance modules and confirming her details with payroll and before she knew it she was waiting for the elevator. She was idly checking her messages when the door chimed and when she looked up she was face to face with none other than the CEO. She was so surprised to see him that her mind went blank. Mercifully, he spoke first. “Miss Stark, I trust you had an appropriately informative day.” Gravel in honey, oh dear.

“Ah yes very informative Sir, and interesting.” _Sir?!_ That felt all wrong and awkward as hell, but she had reverted back to professional distance as was perfectly appropriate. He looked at her silently for what felt like a very long time but was probably all of about three seconds. Then he gave a perfunctory nod of his head, said, "Very good," and wandered off purposefully in the direction of his brother's office. Sansa stood in the back of the elevator, watching him as the doors closed. He didn't turn around, which was just as well since her face felt like it was on fire. She put the back of her hand up to her cheek and thanked the seven that she was alone. When she reached the lobby there were other people waiting of course and she thought they must be pretty curious as to why she looked like she'd just had a sauna.

She walked quickly out onto the street and was very grateful for the slight chill in the air as she made her way to the station. While Sansa's mind might have been determined to leave Tywin well alone, her body clearly had another agenda. She was going to have to make more of an effort to remember the fact that he was both very complicated and very dangerous. After all, she was bound to bump into him the way she had tonight on a fairly regular basis, and she couldn't very well turn to hot mush every time. When she got home, she took a refreshing shower and called her parents since they were eager to hear how her day had been.

It was well after 7pm and the sun had set on another day in the capital, but the Great Lion was pacing in his office. His brief run-in with Sansa had confirmed his fears. Her attitude towards him had changed. No longer was she unreserved in his company. She'd reverted back to fearful reverence, which in truth was how he liked most people to behave towards him. Not her though. He wanted back the warm smiles, the softly spoken words and the genuine care. He wanted to see that little glimmer of something in her eyes that was far from fear or loathing. He wanted her to touch his arm again with that lovely warm hand of hers. She was the first woman he'd wanted any of it from in thirty years, and now that it had gone away he knew just how much he longed for it.

This all harked back to Joffrey, of course. His damnable grandson was still making life difficult for him from beyond the grave. But Tywin’s part in what had happened to Joffrey was not general knowledge. Had Sansa somehow found out? How had she found out?

Kevan sounded like there were a number of things he was trying not to say when Tywin started grilling him about Sansa. True to form though, Kevan kept his suspicions to himself and gave Tywin an account of the day. Kevan would never lie to his brother, Tywin knew this, and by the end of their conversation he was convinced that nothing had been revealed throughout the course of the work day.

This meant that he had to look elsewhere for the source of Sansa's information, and that net was much wider. He knew that she moved in a social circle with the Tyrells, so there was really no telling the kind of gossip she had been exposed to. Not to mention what her own family might be saying - the Starks and Lannisters had never been close. It didn't particularly bother him if she'd heard a few rumours. He was no stranger to the fascination that all and sundry had with his regrettably dysfunctional family. At any rate, he was sure that Sansa was wise enough to be able to discern fact from fiction. What worried him immensely was that somehow she might have found out the facts, or something very close to the truth, which now had her feeling uneasy about him and unable to look him in the eye.

The worst of it was, of course, that he couldn't go back and change what had happened and neither was he inclined to build a relationship on a foundation of lies. So if Sansa truly could not reconcile herself with his behaviour then she was lost to him already. He didn't like that one bit. He was a man who knew how to use his considerable resources to get what he wanted. But all the resources in the world couldn't save him if this radiant, innocent, kind woman was repulsed by him.


	6. Chapter Six

Harry arrived right on 12:30 to take Sansa for lunch. They had bumped into one another at a bar last weekend and after a bit of charming persuasion, Sansa had finally decided to give him a chance. He was really very sweet and although being in the same room as him didn't heat her blood the way that it did with somebody else, she had come to the realisation that she was in danger of throwing away perfectly good opportunities at real happiness if she persisted in entertaining her childish fantasy. She was also determined to continue in her quest to limit drama in her personal life and Harry seemed steady.

She was pretty realistic about the fact that a) it was an exceptional long shot that Tywin Lannister would ever be interested in her and b) that relationship would likely be nothing but complicated, from the age gap to the crazy family to the insane wealth and of course the media. She never would have thought she'd spend a sleepless night debating in her mind whether enabling the death of an evil grandson makes a man a bad relationship prospect, but now she certainly had and truthfully it had cost her more like a week of sleepless nights and still counting. And that, she knew, was probably only the outer layer of Tywin Lannister's onion. She was certain he would have a whole wardrobe full of skeletons that she really did not care to have to deal with. The fact that her insides turned to jelly every time he looked at her was unfortunate but nothing she couldn't handle.

So, she and Harry were grabbing a bite to eat at a Merenese place that had opened down the road. He worked not far from Red Lion at Royce and Arryn - one of the city's premier accounting firms. When Alys called to tell her Harry had arrived, she was basically ready to go. She quickly finished up the email she was working on, grabbed her jacket and headed to the foyer. Harry greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and off they went. They were completely oblivious to the green eyes perusing the interaction with a searing intensity beneath a deep frown. Tywin was making quite a number of unscheduled visits to Level 16 these days, and whether this one was carefully orchestrated or not, Kevan didn't know, but as he watched his brother staring daggers at the elevator doors Kevan couldn't help but feel a bit for the Great Lion.

Having gotten to know Sansa fairly well over the last month, Kevan could certainly see her appeal. She was highly intelligent, thoughtful, selfless and maternal, not to mention exceptionally beautiful in a way that only graceful and modest women could be. In temperament she reminded him of his own wife. It didn’t entirely surprise him that she had aroused his brother's interest. Although he might have had brief encounters with vapid, supermodel types, Tywin Lannister was a wizened and careful man, who would never let his heart attach to someone who was unworthy of being his lioness.

Therein lay the predicament. Tywin was obviously attached to Sansa and it seemed, at least from appearances, that she did not reciprocate those feelings. Kevan knew that they had shared a meaningful experience when Joffrey had attacked Tommen and Sansa had been first on the scene. That was likely the catalyst for Tywin's attachment, since prior to that he only would have had brief, generic encounters with her. It seemed unlikely that Tywin would have let himself get this far if there had never been any sign that Sansa shared his feelings, but something had obviously changed for her that hadn't changed for him. Taking a stab in the dark, he waited for his brother to pull up alongside and very quietly said, “Is it possible that our Miss Stark knows what happened to your irredeemable grandson?” He knew he'd hit the nail on the head when his brother snapped around to face him.

“Did she say something to that effect?”

“No,” Kevan shook his head, keeping his voice low, “nothing of the sort. She is very intelligent though and I gather she knows more about the situation than most so I thought she might have connected the dots. Has her manner changed at all towards you?”

“Mmm, yes, you could say that.” Tywin’s eyes were narrowed as if trying to decide whether to lambast his younger brother for interfering in his private life, but in truth he felt he needed some assistance.

Sensing limited resistance, Kevan continued, “Clegane was keeping an eye on Sansa and Miss Tyrell in the hours after Joffrey attacked Tommen, was he not? And that was likely also the time when you would have been _arranging things_ , with him?”

“Clegane would never be so foolish as to share such information with….” His brother cut him off, shaking his head sternly.

“Of course not. I know Clegane is as loyal as they come. I was merely suggesting that perhaps Sansa overheard something she wasn’t meant to, or came by the information accidentally? It was quite a chaotic time after all.” Tywin ran this over in his head, scratching his fingertips through his beard. It was certainly plausible.

“Yes well, supposing that’s true there isn’t much to be done about it is there.”

“I doubt very much that she’s the sort of person to go to the authorities with the information, Tywin. And besides, if she hasn’t done it yet she is unlikely to do so in the future.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m not concerned she’ll go to the police.” There was no mistaking the sadness and defeat beneath his words. With a grimace that Kevan hadn’t seen his brother wear in many years, he turned abruptly and left. Kevan thought he had a fair understanding of the sort of person that Sansa Stark was. Unfortunately for Tywin, he suspected that she already found much to dislike about Lannisters in general and if she had pieced together what had truly happened to Joffrey as well then there was probably, as his brother had intimated, little to be done about it. Sansa didn’t come across as self-righteous and she was perfectly friendly, but she also gave the impression of having little time for drama and absolutely no interest in moving in the twisted web of the Westerosi elite, despite the fact that with her family background she’d be more than welcome there. Ironically enough, those traits were perfectly compatible with Tywin who also despised the fame that came with his fortune and would very happily live the life of a wealthy and powerful recluse.

* * * *

A couple of weeks later, Sansa was in the lunch room reheating leftovers from last night's dinner and waiting for Margaery to answer her phone. Earlier in the day she'd received a series of disturbing text messages from her best friend.

Marg: _You'll never guess who I ran into this morning? Robert Baratheon._

Then half an hour later.

Marg: _Alright so it may not have been so much 'ran into' as 'met for coffee'._

And another hour after that,

Marg: _Okay so it also wasn't just this morning. It was yesterday morning too and one afternoon last week._

Finally,

Marg: _I'm considering a relationship with him. Thoughts?_

And now Sansa was calling to check that Margaery hadn't suffered a stroke. Yes, it would be a fairly personal conversation, but Sansa and Varys were the only ones in the office today and he had gone out for lunch a few minutes ago. When she picked up, Sansa didn't bother with a greeting. “Two words Margaery, full bloodwork.”

“Hahaha, oh go on, he's not that bad. I'm not going to demand his medical history before we've even shared a meal. It might fizzle out to nothing. Besides, why did they invent condoms if not for situations exactly like this!”

“Oh god you're really thinking about sleeping with him. I suddenly feel like you've not been listening to me at all on pretty much every Friday night for the last two years.”  
The conversation went on like this for some time and then Margaery noted that Sansa should understand the attraction to the older man, since it was a preference of hers as well.

“I couldn't care less about his age, babe. I 100% understand the appeal of an older man, but honestly the one you're after is a complex case. Popular belief suggests that he might have fathered up to a quarter of the population of under 25s in the greater King's Landing area. Just because you're about to turn 26 doesn't mean you shouldn't probably talk to your mother first to be certain! Don't get me started on his deplorable attitude to women in general or the number of things you could potentially catch from him!”

The conversation ended with both women laughing and agreeing to revisit the topic that evening at dinner.

“I wish someone had given my daughter some advice like that twenty years ago.” _Gravel in honey_. His voice was unmistakable. Sansa spun around so quickly her lunch almost flew off the bench.

“Oh gods, I'm so sorry you had to overhear that. Have you been there the entire time? I don't usually make personal calls at work, honestly, I thought I was the only one here.” It was the most elaborate and casual string of sentences that she'd ever uttered in his presence, despite the rambling nature of them. He'd caught her off guard and she hadn't even had time to become flustered before she started speaking. She was feeling pretty flustered now though, as he looked at her with an amused expression. She could feel the heat creeping up from her chest. Any minute now she'd be doing an impersonation of an overripe tomato.

“You're perfectly at liberty to spend your lunch hour however you please, Sansa.”

_God her name sounded great when he said it._

“I apologize for intruding. I came to see my brother only to remember that he is spending the day in The Reach negotiating terms with Olenna Tyrell.” _Well that was a bold-faced lie. Tywin Lannister never forgot anything. He came down to Level 16 hoping to bump into her._

“Do you think she knows what she's getting herself into?” He inclined his head towards the phone.

“Hmmm well she's no wallflower, but I'm not sure she appreciates the extent of Robert's baggage.”

“Well there are few people more able to appraise her of that situation than yourself and if she chooses not to heed your advice, on her head be it.” It sounded a bit harsh but then she could hardly believe they were having the conversation at all and certainly couldn't fault his logic.

“Mmm that's true.” She nodded her head and turned her attention to removing her lunch from the microwave. Tywin knew that this was the perfect opportunity for him to bid her good day and leave her to eat her lunch in peace.

“How goes the hunt for the commercial precinct in the warehouse district? Kevan tells me you've narrowed it down to two sites?” _Harrold Hardyng certainly wasn’t leaving her to eat her lunch in peace every Wednesday at 12:30._

“Yes. We're actually going to visit all three of them next week but to be honest I think there's really only one that will meet our needs.” _So often the case_. “It's lacking the water outlook that the second option has but it's vastly more cost effective to dress this one up a bit than to pay a premium for the other. I don't think people mind so much if their café or food market doesn't have a view. They aren't really there for the aesthetics but they certainly will mind if they can never find parking or have to queue for an obscenely long time to get in because the tenancies are too small to be practical.”

“I agree. When you're sharing a meal, your attention should be on the person you're sharing it with, not the view out the window.” He looked at her meaningfully and her insides liquified. “And I abhor having to queue for anything, especially something I'm paying good money for.”

They conversed for some time about the advantages and pitfalls of the various options. Sansa sat and ate her lunch and Tywin made himself a coffee and leaned against the bench drinking it. At first Sansa was surprised to find that Tywin knew as much as he did about the finer details of the project - surely not even the Great Lion can be across every part of the business all the time. But then she did know him to be incredibly professional, so she supposed it made perfect sense really. It was also a nice reminder of how easy it was for the two of them to talk when he wasn't being intimidating and she wasn't being flustered as hell.

In truth, they probably could have carried on like that for hours except that Varys came back from lunch and suddenly Sansa was feeling as though it was somehow indecent to be found talking with the CEO in such a comfortable manner. "I guess I should get back to all that work you pay me to do." She smiled at him in a genuine, warm way but he couldn't help but hate the way that statement had sounded. It brought the massive perceived inequality that she saw between them into very sharp focus and he felt his dislike of it emanate from a place in his chest.

He made a few inquiries with Varys, so as to avoid the impression of having come down purely to see Sansa (which of course he had) and returned to his office for the remainder of the afternoon. The task at hand was to read the first update on the downtown multiplex project. The ground had finally been broken last week thanks to the finalisation of the dispute with Dragonstone. It wasn't much of a page turner and he couldn't help his mind drifting back over the details of his conversation with Sansa, and the conversation she’d been having with Miss Tyrell before she’d noticed him standing there.

In amongst her very sound advice regarding Robert Baratheon, he had unmistakeably also heard her mention that she had no problem with older men. _That was something, at least._ It had been the first time they'd spoken since the hospital and the only time they’d conversed at such length. Just as he had suspected, he had found her to be confident and knowledgeable without any of the haughtiness that so often accompanied those traits. She was delightful and he would happily have spent the rest of the day, and the night for that matter, talking with her.

Sansa spent the afternoon checking in with a couple of the contractors who were due to deliver their final costings for the commercial precinct in Dorne but after she'd read over the pricing for the shiplap interiors three times she gave in to her distraction. She took her glasses off, rubbed her forehead and decided she needed a coffee. Did her pulse quicken at the thought that he might, in some absurd coincidence, be there in the lunch room again? _Certainly not_. Did she stand at the bench making her coffee remembering over and over how he'd said that when he was sharing a meal with someone he gave them his full attention? _No way_. And did she sit at her desk sipping her coffee trying to remember every detail of his face, his expressions and convincing herself she'd seen something more than polite professional interest in his eyes? _Never_.

Needless to say, at 6pm she packed the costings report into her bag and headed to the gym, hoping a pump class would exhaust some sense back into her. When she sat down on the train she glanced at her phone, she had a text from Harry. That’s right, Harry. Harrold Hardyng. Her - sort of - boyfriend. Back to reality.

* * * *

It was a month since he’d first seen Sansa disappear into the elevator with her new beau and it aggrieved Tywin to know that it now happened on a regular basis. It had taken a lot of restraint not to send Brax and Clegane down to Royce and Arryn to burn the building down. Worst of all was that nowhere in the cache of information that Tywin had surreptitiously collated on the little ponce, was a single trace of dirt. His mother had died when he was a child, which was sure to have engaged Sansa's guileless empathy. He was wealthy, well-educated and hard-working, if the opinion of Yohn Royce was anything to judge by. He was entirely suitable for Sansa - young, charming and hadn't had to arrange expensive but convenient deaths for any depraved family members.

Tywin really couldn’t compete with him and the only good thing to come out of observing the two of them interact, on the unfortunate occasion that he stumbled upon it, was that it was very good fuel for his boxing sessions with Clegane – they used to be once a week but he’d increased the frequency of them in recent times. Every evening Tywin did some sort of strength training. Tuesday night was traditionally leg night. Not tonight though. Tonight, he would therapeutically beat the living crap out of a boxing bag because he couldn't, in good conscience, beat Harry Hardyng away from Sansa.


	7. Chapter Seven

Summer turned to Autumn and Sansa was really enjoying her time in the International Business team. They'd recently been trying to appease the local government in Sunspear by cutting back on the carbon footprint of the warehouse developments. Sansa had been very useful in this regard - she had a keen interest in environmental sustainability and had made a number of highly effective suggestions that were well on the way to sealing the approvals.

Margaery had been spending several nights a week with Robert of late and so she and Sansa had resorted to catching up over the phone in their lunchbreaks. Today, Sansa was amusing her best friend with a summary of her date the previous night with Harry. Sansa did truly find him very nice and enjoyed the time they spent together, but there just wasn't much attraction there from her side. Try as she might she simply had not been able to drum up the level of excitement that she knew was important to make the relationship work. “Yeah, it was fine,” she said unenthusiastically.

“Fine? Gods that sounds awful.” Margaery offered sympathetically. Sansa knew she had it in her to feel much better than _fine_ , because it was the way she felt every time she saw a certain _other_ person. Her feelings for Tywin were undeniably strong but complicated by the fact that she felt terribly irresponsible for having them in the first place. Nevertheless though, they were as real and as persistent as they had ever been. Sansa was resolved to persevering with Harry at least a little while longer in the hope that she might start feeling a spark. She'd decided that if she still felt nothing by the end of October she'd break it off with him.

As much as it was unusual to be seeing so little of her best friend, Sansa couldn't deny that the relationship that was blooming between Margaery and Robert seemed to be making them both genuinely happy. Robert hadn't been featured in the tabloids doing anything stupid for an entire month. One magazine had resorted to rehashing some of his antics of old but they'd been quickly found out by their more observant readers. He had been spotted exercising, of all things, and on the few occasions Sansa had seen him, his complexion appeared much healthier than usual and he was nicely groomed. Marg had told her that Robert had begged forgiveness from Tywin and the Great Lion had eventually given him a small project in the Stormlands to manage. It was far from the level of power and responsibility that Robert was used to, but it would do for now as he attempted to get his life back on track.

Tywin had been reluctant to allow Robert back into the corporate fold, but his behaviour since Tommen's attack had been very reasonable. He hadn't caused any fuss about Joffrey's demise, unlike Cersei who had always completely refused to see the boy for what he was and had now estranged herself entirely from her remaining children and family. She’d taken off to the Iron Islands with Euron where she threw parties and entertained journalists looking to get a scoop on the latest Lannister scandal. Her behaviour disgusted her father, but there was little he could do about it. He had further restricted her access to money and assets, but she was a wealthy woman in her own right these days. The best outcome Tywin was hoping for was that she'd remain where she was and he wouldn't have to deal with her.

It didn't surprise Tywin that Robert was recovering with the careful support of Miss Tyrell. He imagined daily the improvements that his own life would enjoy should he find a way to convince Sansa to embark on a relationship with him. It galled him that Robert was now enjoying the kind of loving attention that he himself craved so much, and he found that he was just fickle enough to begrudge the man his happiness.

* * * * 

That Saturday night, Harry took Sansa to the theatre. It was the opening night of a production of ‘Wicked’ with an international cast. Sansa quite liked the theatre and had seen this show before, some years ago, enjoying it immensely. It didn’t hurt that it was also an opportunity to dress up a bit. Nights like these tended to be a bit of a who’s who of King’s Landing society, so she wasn’t that surprised when moments after arriving she spotted a Lannister contingent.

Tywin was there with Kevan, Dorna, Tyrion and Jamie - who had also brought along the new lady in his life, Brienne. They were all standing on the mezzanine waiting for the doors to open when he spotted her. She was with Mr Hardyng, of course, and she looked incredible in a navy dress with a plunging neckline and a laced back. He saw another young man walk over and engage Harry in conversation. Sansa excused herself to the bar and Tywin couldn’t help but follow her. Approaching from behind where she was lined up and waiting, he said, “I should very much like to buy you a drink but I think your boyfriend might get thirsty.”

She turned around slowly, knowing exactly who the voice belonged to and grinned cheekily. “Hmmm, yes he probably would.”

“After you,” he gestured when the waiter attended them. She placed her order and they stood in silence for a moment. They were both far too preoccupied with their own thoughts to possibly speak. She was wondering if he had been joking and he was imagining her turning to him and saying with a wink, _“Harry will be fine, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”_

“Are you here with your sons?”

“Yes, and Kevan and his wife,” he nodded as he spoke. “Jaime's brought along his new girlfriend.”

“Oh lovely.”

“Mmm, it's always interesting to hear how he's managed to convince another unsuspecting woman that he's not just a pretty face, only to find that....”

She laughed. “Oh go on, I'm sure he's not that bad. After all, he's a son of yours,” she gave him a cheeky look and a raised eyebrow.

Tywin Lannister was the one the designers were thinking of when they invented the tuxedo, Sansa thought to herself as she stood there beside him at the bar. She was wracking her brain for something witty to say but all that was springing to mind were several ineloquent variations on, 'take me, I'm yours'.

“I saw that the invitation to the Martell Christmas function has come through,” said Tywin, breaking the silence. The Christmas season would be upon them before they knew it and there was no harm in gathering intelligence on which of the parties Sansa might be planning on attending. It also passed the comfortable small talk test.

“Oh yes, I saw that too. I'm rather looking forward to it. The Martells have quite the reputation!”

“Yes well, in my experience it's a case of dinner and a show where the food is excellent and the entertainment consists of watching increasingly disorderly men with a lot of product in their hair and very high opinions of themselves, chase around any woman who'll give them a sideways glance. I avoid it when I can.”

“Haha well I'll consider myself warned and be very careful about my peripheral vision, but I'm determined to see the spectacle myself.”

“Of course you are.” 

Just then, the waiter returned with Sansa's champagne and the beer that she had ordered for Harry. As much as she would have loved nothing more than to pass an entire evening with him that way, she was well-mannered if nothing else and she was there with another man. “Well, enjoy your evening and the rest of your weekend.”

_Not bloody likely,_ thought Tywin to himself, but he gave her the closest thing to a smile that he ever gave anyone in public. “And you.” He nodded his head in the direction of where Harry was now standing on his own, checking his phone, and tried to disguise his abject jealousy. Perhaps he would go to the Martell Christmas party after all and enforce some sort of ‘no partners allowed’ rule amongst his employees in the name of seasonal economy – there were flights and a hotel stay involved, after all.

The doors opened before long, and Sansa and Harry made their way inside. They were sitting in the ninth row which afforded them a very good view of the stage. She’d only been casting her eyes around surreptitiously for a few minutes when she spotted _him_. He had put his glasses on, which made him look even better than usual, in her humble opinion, and he seemed to be perusing the program.

The play was really very good, and every so often Harry would lean in and pass a comment and they would chatter back and forth, but nothing short of an alien invasion right there on the stage in front of them could have prevented her eyes from flitting every few moments to the box where Tywin was sitting. Kevan was there too with his wife beside him, and Jaime had his new girlfriend, and beside Tywin was Tyrion. She knew neither of them would have been overly happy about that, so she didn’t feel too bad about conjuring a fantasy involving Tyrion being called away unexpectedly and Tywin offering her the seat instead. 

The Princess Theatre was a beautiful, ornate old building. It wasn’t as big as some of the more recently built theatres in town, but it still seated about a thousand in three levels of floor seating and six staggered boxes - three on either side of the stage. Everywhere you looked there was polished brass, rich, dark wood and red velvet. It was the perfect setting for getting carried away in a romantic daydream. Five minutes of flirting with Tywin at the bar had her blood warm and her heartrate up. If only she could manufacture that kind of chemistry with her date.

They’d stopped in at a bar across the street for some Tapas before the show and while initially Sansa had been a bit put off that Harry had cancelled their more elaborate dinner plans because his soccer match had run later than expected, when she thought about it, it was probably a blessing in disguise. The two of them seemed to have less to talk about these days now that they were through the initial ‘getting to know you’ phase of the relationship. They simply didn’t have all that much in common. Harry enjoyed sports and had a thirst for adventure. His most recent holiday had been a camping safari in Braavos. He had already suggested that they go skydiving together before Christmas which Sansa had deflected gracefully, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to put him off like that forever. 

While Harry took out his phone every so often to check the score in whatever game it was that he _had a tenner on_ that night, Sansa noticed that Tywin never checked his phone once until intermission. He was watching the performance, whether he liked it or not was impossible to tell, but he was giving it his attention anyway. Jaime went out at intermission to get drinks and Tywin sat for almost a full ten minutes speaking with the woman Jaime had brought along. Sansa didn’t recognise her but she was tall and blonde. _Ought to fit right in_. At no point did Tywin look over to where Sansa was sitting, and she felt confident that her little bit of spying had not been found out. She tried harder to concentrate during the second act and even became appropriately sentimental at the ending.

As Sansa and Harry were leaving, a lady in the row in front of them tripped over and squealed, drawing attention to herself. Tywin looked down at the commotion and before long he had locked eyes with Sansa. She made a face in the direction of the squealing woman, who was hamming things up a bit, and Tywin gave a smirk. He couldn’t help himself. The other people in their row were now moving, so Sansa couldn’t linger. Just before she disappeared from view he mouthed the word, ‘goodnight’, inclining his head towards her. Sansa blushed adorably and gave him a grin. ‘And you’.

Tywin felt rather foolish. He’d been looking for her all night and there she had been right in front of him. He could have spent three largely unobstructed hours gazing at her – her delicate movements, her subtle expressions as the story shifted, the twinkle in her eyes when she was amused, but instead he’d had to imagine it all as he sat there feigning interest in what he could only gather was a story about a witch who went to school with some very odd characters. Finally seeing her had been a very pleasant way to end the evening though. He felt like she had softened toward him again over recent weeks. Tonight at the bar she had been unreserved, dare he say even flirty with him. It was more than enough to give him hope for another day and keep him looking for opportunities to spend more time with her.

* * * *

Kevan Lannister wasn’t honestly much of a theatre buff, but his wife enjoyed it, and he enjoyed making her happy. He was applying himself diligently to trying to understand the machinations of the main character, who was green, and the various satellite characters, some of whom were ‘human’ and some who were not, when another little show caught his eye. Sansa Stark was sitting below them, not far from the front of the theatre, and she evidently found the play even less engrossing that Kevan did, because she seemed to be watching his brother instead. Perhaps Tywin’s fascination wasn’t as one sided as Kevan had thought? Now this _was_ an interesting development. And as for that little interaction between them at the end, well it was the closest thing to flirting he’d ever seen his brother do.

* * * * 

Tywin had always prided himself on his self-control. Lately though, he had completely lost the ability to leave well enough alone. He thought about not going down there. He knew it was the folly of an old fool – hadn’t he seen her on Saturday night, enjoying an evening out with someone else? The same someone else who she also shared lunches with quite regularly? He knew it all, but still he couldn't resist. As long as she was there, the lunch room on the 16th floor was the only place he wanted to be.

“It's a marvel I can't smell that from my office.”

“A bit heavy on the garlic, you think?”

“I'm sure I've heard more than one person say there's no such thing. What was on the menu last night then?”

“Mushroom risotto, if you must ask,” she said, feigning disappointment that he couldn’t tell just from the smell of it. “The garlic really does make it. Three different kinds of mushrooms and a drizzle of truffle oil. All totally fat free of course,” she said with a laugh.

“Of course.”

“This is why I have a gym membership.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that surely the gym was so that she could pour herself into exquisite dresses like the one she'd been wearing on Saturday night, but he thought better of it. They were at work after all.

“Did you enjoy the show, then?”

_The Tywin Lannister show? Yes I did, very much thank you._ “Yes, I've seen it once before years ago, but I thought the woman who played Ephelba did a fabulous job.

“Mmm, very talented. I'm not sure I found Figaro as convincing, but Tyrion informs me it was the understudy, so perhaps to be expected.”

“Oh right, yes that is understandable.”

“I suppose Mr Hardyng took you out for a nice meal beforehand? Actually, we were in a bit of a rush. Harry had a late soccer game and we just grabbed some tapas at the Livewire Bar across the street. It was nice though.”

“Ah yes, Tapas. I'm sure it won't surprise you to learn that I prefer a plate of food that's intended to be eaten by just one person.”

She laughed at him as she removed her dish from the microwave, gave it a stir and put it back in for another minute. “You're right you know, it doesn't surprise me.” She said holding her fork thoughtfully. “Did you have dinner beforehand?”

“Yes we went to La Volantine - my sister in law is very fond of the place and she generally makes the reservations.”

“Oh, I’ve heard it’s lovely there. What did you eat?”

“Pork belly with rustic vegetables. Nothing that smelled even remotely as good as that Mushroom Risotto.” She smiled and blushed adorably at the compliment.

“Keep being so loose with your compliments and you might find yourself with leftovers for lunch one of these days.”

“Is that right? I have no doubt that would be the best lunch I’ve had in as long as I can remember. And my very first leftovers.”

“You're kidding?”

“Sansa, consider my situation - I live alone. I don't make elaborate meals. Most of the time it's just some sort of protein and vegetables. Occasionally I might have a single serve of pasta but only rarely.”

“Hmmmm, interesting. You don't know what you're missing out on.”

_Oh I have some idea_. “Well, unfortunately I have to be back upstairs for a meeting at 2. Enjoy your lunch.”

“I will, thank you. You really should try tapas at least once.”

“I promise you that if I ever find myself sharing a meal with someone I'm that fond of then I will consider it.”

_Share a meal with me Sansa and I'll eat whatever you want me to._

As he walked away, she knew she had a big problem. She lived for these interactions with him. They were the last thing she thought about as she fell asleep and the first thing she looked forward to when she woke up.


	8. Chapter Eight

“Can I leave this here for Mr Lannister?” She put the lunch bag up on the desk, suddenly feeling rather foolish. She hadn't anticipated him not being available, though now she thought of it, it seemed ridiculous that he wouldn't be. He was very busy every other day and it's not as though he'd be sitting in his office waiting to accept birthday offerings. Was it still sweet and endearing to receive a home cooked lunch if you didn't actually get it until late afternoon or the following day? _Gods._ She tucked the card under the strap on the bag and left quickly before she died of embarrassment. The more she thought about it the more she felt silly, childish even. She hardly knew this man and she'd taken one comment of his and gone off on a crusade of imagination. He probably wouldn't even remember the conversation and so upon receipt of the bag would immediately become concerned that he has a lunatic in his employ.

Exactly what was she trying to accomplish here anyway? Wasn’t she still trying to make a go of it with Harry? Where in all of her self-preservation and determination to avoid drama did she come up with the idea of whimsically cooking her boss lunch for his birthday? The man’s family basically appeared in the dictionary as the definition of drama. More to the point, what was the reaction she was hoping for? That he would enjoy it so much that he would spirit her away and lock her in his kitchen so that she could cook for him and he could do all kinds of delicious things to her? _Well yes actually_ , but she was no seductress and what kind of man really reads all that into a packed lunch? More likely was that Tywin would think she was a bit kooky and try to put some distance between them to avoid having her become any more like a stalker. His legal team were no doubt pros at restraining orders. He probably got this sort of thing all the time.

Eventually, Sansa had to stop thinking about it and forcibly bury herself in work for the afternoon to achieve an ounce of productivity. By the time she left for the day she was hoping that Jeyne, professional as she seemed, had eaten the lunch herself or else thrown it out before Tywin got there. In an attempt to re-ground herself, Sansa messaged Harry while she was on the train home to see how his day had been.

* * * * 

As it happened, Jeyne had not disposed of the lunch, or done anything to prevent it being delivered and Tywin had returned to his office briefly between meetings and so had received it in a timely manner. He hadn't had time to eat it then, so he'd put it in the fridge and placed the card back in its envelope in the top drawer of his desk. Now, at the end of the day, he was sitting at the dining table in his penthouse with a glass of scotch, looking at a red lunch bag and an envelope with his name on it. He felt boyish, excited even, for the first time in thirty years. It wasn't so much about the meal itself, though he was certain it would be delicious, it was more about what it signified. Sansa had found out it was his birthday by accident when Kevan mentioned it, and with less than 24 hours’ notice had given him a perfect, heartfelt gift, based on something she'd learned about him during one of these lovely little interactions they kept having at work.

Apart from Kevan and Jeyne, Sansa had been the only other person to acknowledge it was his birthday – which suited him perfectly well. Tywin was wise enough to know that none of this was necessarily proof that Sansa wanted him to whisk her away to a life of great sex and total happiness. She was, after all, the nicest person he'd ever met and so there was every chance this was something quite innocent. Still, he would eat this incredibly delicious ginger and lemongrass stir fry and cherish it for what it was. A sliver of hope. Afterwards, he looked again at the card.

_Dear Tywin,_  
_I couldn't let you go another year without. Happy birthday._  
_From Sansa._

It was simple enough and yet it could also carry such a lot of meaning. Regardless of the passing of time, or the recurring appearance of young Mr Hardyng, Tywin found himself with an ever-growing, inappropriate attachment to Sansa. Despite his best efforts to distract himself and maintain professional distance, he had noticed little else for weeks now and sought out her company on an almost daily basis. Of course, he'd known she was stunningly beautiful for years - their paths had crossed from time to time at a charity event or a gathering at Robert and Cersei's. But since they’d started spending more time together he'd realised she also had a great many other very attractive qualities. She even had an uncanny ability to make him feel nervous. Nobody had made him feel that way before in his life.

Tywin Lannister was famous for not caring what the sheep thought of him. But she was no sheep. He found he did care what she thought of him and it made him face the reality that while he was professionally firm and flawless, the same could not be said for his aptitude with matters of the heart. He felt far less confident in his ability to woo a beautiful young woman than he did in closing even the most difficult business deal. Women had been throwing themselves at him for years, but there was a reason he'd never married again after Joanna died. He didn't want a woman who was attracted to his money or his power, but rather to him, but the problem was that he didn’t tend to come into contact with many that fit that description. Now he had found someone who was everything he wanted and the best he could do was flirt with her in the lunchroom while she carried on seeing somebody else.

* * * *

Sansa's harmless but persistent attraction to her employer had been a source of entertainment for Margaery ever since the night she accidentally revealed it over a litre or so of Gin and Tonics. Sansa didn't find it half as amusing as Marg did; it was rather annoying to be so often distracted at work and it was causing her to do uncharacteristically embarrassing things on the regular. The other day she’d made a cup of tea without the tea bag because she was distracted talking to him, and the week before that she’d entirely forgotten an afternoon meeting because she’d been delayed in the lunchroom. Ironically, the one thing that Sansa thought was likely to impress him more than anything else - being an effective and highly productive employee - was made more difficult to achieve by his very presence in the building. 'A vicious cycle' was how Sansa had described it as she and Margaery both laughed into their near empty tumblers.

* * * *

“I think I need to call things off with Harry,” Sansa was sitting at her desk late one night when the others had gone home. She was finishing up a few emails and then talking to Marg on the phone while she packed up her things. Unbeknownst to her, Tywin had just stepped out of the elevator on the 16th floor, wanting to leave an envelope on Kevan’s desk so that he could read the contents first thing in the morning. “No, he's perfectly lovely Margaery. There's just no spark there, at least not from my perspective and if there is from his side well all the more reason to let him go now before he gets more attached. Nobody likes being strung along.” Tywin heard a pause while whoever was on the other end, presumably Miss Tyrell, was speaking. “No, he hasn't done anything wrong. No, I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just not feeling it.” In a less audible voice, she continued, “Gods I swear it took about half an hour for me to orgasm last night. The poor thing was exhausted and he's hardly unfit.”

Tywin felt a bit bad for eavesdropping on what was clearly quite a personal conversation. And yet the tightness in his trousers indicated that other parts of him were buoyed by the information and ready and willing to help Sansa with her delicate problem at a moment's notice. “And this is the beginning of the relationship Marg,, when it’s all supposed to be passion and ripping each other's clothes off. How long before we can't make it happen at all? I'm just not there in my head when I'm with him, you know. I'm,” she paused, apparently choosing her words carefully, “elsewhere. And that's really not fair to him.” Tywin was connecting the dots. He knew he shouldn't be rejoicing in another man's shortcomings, but he couldn't be bothered being noble right now. If there was any chance of him winning Sansa's heart then obviously her breaking up with Harry was essential.

He had heard enough to spur him into action, but he definitely did not want Sansa to think he’d been listening in to her call, so he strode stealthily up the hallway and back into the elevator. He’d deliver the envelope to Kevan on his way home and while he was there he would make sure his brother added his name to the group traveling to Dorne for the Martell Christmas party. While he was at it he could organise for the accommodation to be upgraded from one to two nights – it was unlikely to be a problem, since Tywin owned the hotel anyway. 

Enthusiasm and renewed vigour aside, it was a shame actually that Tywin moved away from the lunchroom so quickly because Sansa, believing herself to be alone, went on to quietly explain to Margaery that if she had to think about her boss fucking her senseless on the lunchroom bench in order to climax every time she was with Harry it was only a matter of time before somebody got hurt. “Haha, you mean like everybody else who uses that lunchroom? Oh and poor Harry of course,” laughed Margaery.

“Anyway,” said Sansa, wanting to change the subject in case somebody else walked in, “how are you going? I saw Robert the other day, I think he'd been for a meeting and he looked really well.”

“Yeah he's trying to stay in Tywin’s good books. He's putting up with my nursemaid come sergeant major routine as well and has stopped arguing about the amount of exercise we're doing. I made a veg lasagne last night and he actually quite enjoyed it. I dunno San, I just really like him and I feel so motivated to try and help him. It doesn't hurt that the sex keeps improving as well.”

“Oh gods, stop,” Sansa interjected, “I've heard enough about that man's sex life over the years to last me a lifetime, thanks very much. But I am happy for you Marg. It sounds like you're quite good for one another. Anyway, I’m off to Dorne for the Christmas party this weekend. Are you busy Thursday night?”

“Oh that’s right. Any chance Mr Lover Lover, I mean Lannister, is going to be there?”

“I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of Mr Lannisters there, but sadly not the one I’d be most interested in spending a weekend with. He mentioned that night we bumped into one another at the theatre that he avoids it when he can, and I wouldn’t think his attendance would be necessary if both Kevan and Tyrion are going.”

“Oh well, never mind. I’m sure by next year you’ll be attending all the Christmas parties together, darling.” Sansa snorted on the other end. “Anyway, back to your original question – I’m free Thursday night. Let’s catch a movie, shall we?”

“Lock it in, lovely!” 

* * * * 

What transpired over the next 48 hours was nothing short of miraculous, and in the end, Sansa and Margaery vetoed the movies on Thursday night in favour of a mani-pedi and dinner at their favourite sushi bar. Sansa had urgent business to discuss with her best friend. She was traveling to Dorne tomorrow with a group of colleagues for the Christmas party and just hours ago she’d heard that at the last minute, Tywin had decided to come along with them as well. Kevan had also sent an email out late in the day saying that the booking had been changed to two nights at the Grand Hotel in Sunspear _as a reward for outstanding results with their Dornish projects this year._

Sansa was as close to having palpitations as she fancied she’d ever been and Margaery was dutifully refilling her wine glass at regular intervals. On one hand, she was incredibly nervous and on the other, she could hardly contain her excitement at being able to spend so much time with him in a casual, social environment. It made her very pleased that she’d bitten the bullet and broken things off with Harry the other night. Her head was spinning enough as it was without having a guilty conscience to deal with as well.

“It’s not presumptuous if he’s been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks San. Take the lingerie. And the red bikini, obviously, because that will guarantee that you do at least sleep with somebody this weekend, even if it’s just the pool boy.” She winked and they both laughed.

Did you say you were thinking of wearing the green sweetheart cut tomorrow night? 

“Yeah that’s the plan. It’s a Christmas party after all.”

“Hmmm, I see where you’re coming from, but I think you’ll have a much better Christmas if you wear the burgundy with the high slit, Mrs Claus. You look stunning in it. The colour of your cheeks every time you’re within five metres of him will be festive enough to compensate for the colour of the dress.”

“Oh Gods don’t remind me. I can’t help it, you know. There’s not enough bronzer in the world to cover it up either.” 

“Oh go on, it’s really not that noticeable. Besides, I bet he’s exactly the kind of guy to get a major kick out of being able to make a beautiful woman so flustered.” Sansa took another sip of her wine, giving Marg an incredulous look over the table. 

“So, do you know if he’s flying out with the rest of you? Maybe you can slip someone a fifty and get the seat beside him?”

“I’m not sure actually. The transport’s all been arranged for us, so all I know is that I’m being picked up tomorrow morning at 9am.”

* * * * 

Sansa got very little sleep that night, on account of lying awake worrying about how little sleep she was getting. The advantage of rising early was that at least she was packed and ready to go when the sleek, sporty, black Mercedes pulled up outside her townhouse ten minutes early. The two coffees she’d already consumed in an effort to wake herself up did not assist her heartrate when she realised that this was a car she had already driven in. Addam got out of the driver’s seat to help her with her things and for the first time in a very long time she felt genuine panic. Before she knew it, Tywin was unfolding himself from the back seat and stepping out into the sunlight. “Good morning.” _Gravel in honey. Oh gods._

This was definitely not what she was expecting. She had imagined hopping into a people mover, trying to gracefully step over a few of her colleagues as she made her way to an empty seat. Tyrion would greet her warmly and then say something lewd, the others would look around unsure of whether they should laugh or not, and off they’d all go to the airport.

Tywin was wearing a dark blue sweater over a white collared shirt and a pair of charcoal chinos. He looked casual and handsome, handsome and casual. He was holding out his hand to help her into the car and when she realised he must have been wondering why she was taking so long to move, she quickly stepped forward. “Good morning,” she replied belatedly. Of course, when she got in there was nobody else in the car. _Just breathe._

“I hope you don’t mind the slight change in arrangements,” he said as he took his seat across from her. “Tyrion's already in Dorne. He went over early with his girlfriend. Kevan and Dorna will meet us at the airstrip, as will the others.” She nodded but didn’t know quite what to say. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to speak with you about what happened with Joffrey, but it’s been difficult to find the right time. I won’t pretend I’m unhappy to see you’re traveling on your own.” He’d taken a chance on the fact that Sansa would be alone this morning, as there had been nothing in Kevan’s itinerary that mentioned anything about her bringing a partner.

She was surprised, to say the least, that he was bringing up what happened to Joffrey, and mercifully it diverted her attention from how nervous she was. “Ah yes, I hadn’t thought to bring Harry along actually and at any rate, he and I aren’t seeing one another anymore. Honestly, you don't need to explain yourself to me.” She meant it and gave him an earnest look. “I live in a very simple world, by my own design, and I’ll admit to being a bit overwhelmed by the reality of that whole situation. But it's just one of those things and I swear I’ll never discuss it with anyone. We operate in very different worlds most of the time, I think.”

“Yes I was afraid you might have come to that conclusion. You think I'm some sort of tyrant who uses my money and influence to bump people off when they annoy me.” She couldn’t help but smile at his colourful description. “I'm not an underworld figure, Sansa and I certainly don't have any sort of criminal history or association with the sort of people who do.” He was genuinely pained by the fact that she might think that about him, she could tell it from his body language.

“When Joffrey attacked Tommen, I acted purely out of a desire to protect innocent people from a foolish and dangerous young man. I sent him to Essos first and foremost to get him away from his victim, and his mother who is a terrible influence. I will admit to you that I wanted to put him in a situation where his stupidity would finally get the better of him and render him incapable of ruining any other innocent lives. I did not tamper with the vehicle and nor did I arrange for anyone else to do so. What happened was a coincidence of an irresponsible, overconfident driver and a high powered sportscar. I won't pretend I am sorry for it and I am eternally grateful that he didn't take anyone else with him. What I will always regret is that he got so far out of my control that he was able to inflict such a lot of damage before I finally realised enough was enough.”

Sansa had been sitting in silence as he spoke, making sure to face him and give him her full attention. She wondered how often he ever went to such lengths to explain his actions to anyone. Not very. She could scarcely believe he was doing it with her.

“Well, I'll admit that it did bother me when I put the pieces together and realised you must have been involved. I accidentally overheard a conversation you were having with Sandor about the arrangements. It bothered me more though when I just thought you'd spirited him off to a tropical island to escape the media attention. It seemed almost like you were rewarding him and my moral compass was all over the place. I did find it a bit unnerving that you could just roll the dice like that. I still do, I think. I suspect you hear it often but you can be quite intimidating you know and it was a reality check, that's all. I'm glad you didn't actually arrange to have him killed.”

“I don't mind if other people are afraid of me. It can be very useful, both in the world of business and in my personal life. I don't want you to be though. You have no need to be.” The look he gave her as he said the words was so earnest that Sansa could feel her heart turning to jelly and her lady parts aching. “I’ve very much enjoyed the time we’ve been spending together lately and if you are unable to reconcile this behaviour of mine with the person you may have been enjoying getting to know as well then I will regret that, very deeply.” _Very deeply._

By the grace of the gods, the car pulled up before Sansa had to try and give words to the jumble of things she was feeling in that moment. She saw a flash of annoyance in Tywin's eyes when Addam opened the door but it disappeared quickly.

When she stepped out of the car, Sansa was surprised to see that they were not at the international terminal but rather in a large hangar. _He’d said airstrip, hadn’t he?_ It only took her a moment to put the pieces together. It made perfect sense of course for the wealthiest man in the country to have a private jet. It simply hadn't occurred to her that they might be traveling in it. Kevan, Dorna and Willem were waiting with their bags beside the sleek looking aircraft. Celia had been sitting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes all along next to Addam, but the window tinting had hidden this from Sansa’s view when they’d pulled up to collect her. Varys was just getting out of a town car behind them. 

It was a three-hour flight to Dorne, and Tywin spent the vast majority of it speaking to Kevan and Varys about a particular project they were hoping to encourage the Martell’s to invest jointly in over the weekend. It was the strangest three hours of Sansa’s life. She didn’t know whether she should be watching him to see if he tried to make eye contact with her or pretending like nothing had happened at all. It was very difficult to do both at the same time and so she sat there focusing intently on the novel she had brought with her - looking at the words, turning the pages and taking absolutely nothing in. It was exhausting. So much so, that by the end of the flight she had decided she was rather unhappy with him for putting her in that situation to begin with and when they arrived at the hotel she checked in and headed straight to her room without even giving him a second glance. 


	9. Chapter Nine

They had checked in right on 2pm and dinner was at 7. The restaurant was just around the corner so they arranged to meet at 6:45 in the lobby. The beginning of December was too cold for swimming in King's Landing, but in Sunspear it was just warm enough. After the frustration of the flight over, Sansa thought a quiet hour or so reading by the pool was exactly the way to pass the time before she wanted to start getting ready.

She wasn't one for public displays of excessive flesh, especially when she was on her own, and in truth she would prefer to use a private balcony to catch a bit of sun, but alas her room didn't have one. So, she donned her fairly modest - at least by Dornish standards – red bikini and covered herself up with a sheer white linen sundress. Happily, she found the pool area very sparsely populated. There was a young couple in one of the spas and a mother with two young children paddling around the shallow end. Sansa dipped her toe in the water and decided that she'd need to sit in the sun for a bit before feeling like cooling off that much. Twenty minutes and one chapter later she felt sufficiently warm to enjoy a quick dip. She wrapped her hair up in a high bun and removed the linen dress. Her bikini was classy, not skimpy, cut high on her hips which made her legs look impossibly long and the front had a woven look which drew the eye but didn't over expose the cleavage. She slipped into the cool water, immersing herself completely and swum a few casual laps.

As she hopped out again, a group of young men entered the pool area from the beach. They were kicking around a football and making an unnecessary amount of noise heckling one another. She didn’t think much of it and headed back to her sun lounge to dry off. She pulled her hair out of the bun so that the long tresses could dry in the sun. She didn’t think she’d done anything particularly eye catching but when the men made their way into the pool they were ogling her unpleasantly and though they weren’t talking _to her_ , she could hear that they were talking _about her_. When she had made her swimwear selection these were certainly not the sort of men she had her mind set on attracting. She was determined to ignore them but she did start packing up – her enthusiasm for lounging by the pool now considerably lessened. As she bundled up her things and set off, one of the men threw their ball at her feet and she kicked it back towards the pool without thinking. “Oh good, now that we’ve been introduced why don’t you stay a while and play, sweetheart?” _Gods save me from idiots in fedoras._ Just as she turned to walk away, the pool gate opened again and Tywin, of all people, stepped through. Evidently he’d been for a run, the sort that was strenuous enough to make his clothes cling to him in just the right places, in Sansa’s humble opinion. She was still annoyed with him for ignoring her during the flight but she couldn’t very well pretend he wasn’t there. “Hi. Nice afternoon for a run along the water.”

“Mmm, too many people for my liking but yes, the boardwalk along the beach affords a nice view.” _Not anywhere near as nice as this one, though._ “Oi sweetheart. Don’t let the old guy distract you. You were just about to give me your room number, remember?” Sansa rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry, apparently I’ve got some unwanted juvenile admirers. I was just going anyway. I’ll see you tonight.” She offered him a small smile, belying her general discomfort with the whole situation. “You know, back in my day, we didn't have to harass women to get them to have dinner with us. We used our vocabularies, our bank balances and our career prospects. Wait, come to think of it, perhaps I've uncovered the problem right there.” Tywin said it loudly and turned to the men in the pool so there was no mistaking his audience. Sansa couldn’t help but stop in her tracks and watch in amusement.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I'm the owner of this hotel. If the four of you would like to stay on, then you will stop making my other guests uncomfortable.” They looked at him suspiciously and Sansa wondered whether they might challenge him. She could see Sandor and Andre observing the situation from a respectable distance just inside the gate.

Thankfully, the one wearing the fedora piped up, "I knew I recognized him from somewhere. That's Tywin fucking Lannister. Come on boys. Leave it alone.” They scurried off to the far side of the pool, looking properly embarrassed.

“Thank you,” Sansa said before she turned and left him standing there scowling at the idiots in his pool. He decided not to follow her. He didn’t fancy sharing a lift with her in his current state – hot, sweaty and expending considerable energy tamping down the arousal that seeing her in her red bikini had induced. He’d put an end to her discomfort here at least and in a few hours he’d be much more presentable and in control of himself. He knew he’d left things awkwardly with her after their discussion in the car this morning, but he absolutely hated other people being about his private life and if he’d sat down beside her on the plane and continued with their conversation, every head would have turned. Now that he’d cleared the air about the Joffrey debacle he was hoping they might be able to move onto topics that were more friendly, intimate even, and the last thing he wanted was a captive audience. Tonight, there would be music and frivolity all around them. By the end of the evening most of the guests would be too drunk to notice who he was talking to. Tonight, he would not ignore Sansa. He would give her all the attention she needed to understand that she was the object of his desire.

By the time he’d showered and re-pressed his suit, he was starting to feel quite optimistic about the evening. The scotch he was sipping as he dressed was doing wonders for his confidence. He didn't particularly like Christmas parties or the Martells of Dorne, but he certainly did like Sansa Stark and he thought he could happily endure a Martell Christmas party if it meant spending several hours in her company.

When she emerged from the elevator in the lobby at 6:40pm, Tywin was momentarily struck dumb. She was breathtaking. Her dress was a deep burgundy with just one shoulder and a scandalously high split. He knew she went to the gym because he had seen her on occasion leaving work in the evening in her gym clothes. If there was a picture that deserved a caption that read ‘great legs’, this was it. He imagined wrapping his hands around those perfect thighs, or better still having them wrapped around him. His cock started twitching. She looked like a Grecian goddess with large gold earrings hanging from her lobes and a fitted golden bangle that looped several times around the top of her right arm. It seemed to have a single ruby embedded in a ball at each end. Red and gold. His favourite combination. Her hair was flowing down her back in a cascade of copper except for two plaited tendrils drawn from front to back on each side. Tywin thought it rather gave the effect of a tiara and he couldn't think of anyone more deserving of being called a queen.

Of course, Tyrion had no hesitation in voicing his appreciation of the outfit. 'Sansa, you look stunning!' You'll have to watch yourself tonight, there will be men and women of Dorne clamouring for you all over the place.” Tywin ground his teeth at the very thought of it. He wasn't going to babble about how incredible she looked in front of them all like some hapless, green boy. He remained silent but as they waited he did catch her eye and offered an expression of greatest appreciation. She was blushing furiously but her lips ticked up at each end in a supressed smirk. When the cars arrived and everyone started milling around, he made a point of moving beside her. The two of them were at the back of the group – he was gratified that she’d lingered there with him. He ever so gently touched his hand to the small of her back to encourage her to stay near to him. Evidently she received his message, because when he glanced at her beside him he noticed a faint blush on her cheeks and she allowed herself to be gently ushered to the car and take the seat beside him.

Things had certainly gotten off to quite a good start. Sansa was sat beside him in the limousine – he’d given Addam the night off to accompany Celia to the party. He wasn’t facing her, which was a shame, but the way she leaned against him as they took the corners more than made up for it. Tyrion was regaling them with tales of his time here with his now fiancé Shae who had apparently finally agreed to marry him on his third attempt at a proposal. Shae was sitting opposite Sansa and looking a little uneasy about being the subject of the entertainment. Sansa was trying to make her feel more comfortable by quietly asking her whether this was her first visit to Dorne. Sansa was warm and empathetic - something that most of the women in Tywin's life were sorely lacking. He didn't say much on the car ride except to comment on the traffic and the civil works that they drove past, but he did listen to every word she said and when she moved her hands to emphasise a point, he watched her hands move gracefully through the air with rapt attention. Kevan was sitting diagonally opposite them and thought he might have been the only one who noticed his brother’s behaviour, since Tyrion was commanding most of the attention, but when Dorna turned to him as the car pulled up and gave him a knowing look, he knew she’d spotted it too.

When they arrived at the restaurant Tywin and Sansa were soon separated in the mingling crowd. Tywin was reluctantly drawn into conversation with Doran Martell, while Sansa remained happily in the company of Tyrion and Shae. Varys joined them as well and before long they were accosted by Oberyn Martell who was very loud and open in his appraisal of Sansa. Tywin could see her blushing and smiling as the odious man complimented her dress, her hair and various other of her feminine features. Thankfully, Oberyn then moved on to showering Shae with the same kind of praise and Sansa looked up and around to find Tywin staring daggers at Oberyn from the other side of the room. Sansa couldn’t help but laugh a little and smile at him mischievously.

When he eventually got away from Doran, Tywin could see Sansa still in conversation and rather than interrupt and make any sort of scene he decided to head over to one of the ornately laid dining tables where he could see Kevan and Dorna already seated. Not long after he sat down, none other than the odious man in question walked over to greet him and even sat in the empty chair beside him despite Tywin giving him a look that could freeze water - he never had shown any aptitude for social cues. Oberyn was apparently keen to air his opinions on the scandal plagued year that had been for the Lannisters. It was not in Tywin’s nature to be retiring though and so after listening to as much as he could of the infuriating man taking entertainment from his familial embarrassment, Tywin began asking a few probing questions of his own. He started with the little-known fact that Oberyn had narrowly avoided bankruptcy recently when a brothel he owned was at the centre of an outbreak of Hepatitis. From that point forward, Oberyn was much warmer in his praise of the Great Lion and took care to avoid touchy subjects.

By the grace of the Gods, Oberyn's girlfriend, a Miss Sand, arrived exactly as Sansa was walking over to the dining table. Tywin saw Sansa cast her eyes around the room scanning for available seats that were fast disappearing. Then her eyes fell on the seat beside him, Oberyn having just vacated it to join his lover, and to Tywin's utmost pleasure, Sansa quickly pounced on it. “Was anyone sitting here?”

“There was, until moments ago, someone very annoying. Please,” he stood and pulled the chair out and gestured for her to sit. She laughed quietly and sat down. He didn't laugh, he was too busy looking at Oberyn Martell with poorly disguised disgust, but when he turned to look at Sansa his face softened into a mixture of pleasure and relief.

“Should I ask about the tale my son was regaling you with?” He said as he sat down.

“You could, but I don't think you'd like it. Hmmmm. Should I enquire about your conversation with Mr Martell?”

“He was casting aspersions on my family until I remembered a certain very unfortunate and incriminating situation that arose at one of his business establishments. Then he remembered his manners.” She couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from twitching.

“Have you eaten here before?”

“Mmm twice.”

“And do you have any recommendations?”

“Both times I've had seafood and it's been very good.”

“Oh good, I love seafood and I always try to eat it when I'm near the coast. There's a coconut chilli prawn dish here that looks very tempting.”

“You enjoy spicey food then?”

“Yes, I quite like it. Not too much of course. I don't like it when it overpowers the other flavours, but a bit of heat is nice, I think.” She blushed when she realised the double entendre.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He looked at her in a way that melted her insides. 

The conversation went on like this for almost a whole glass of wine. The waiter came by and took everyone's orders and Tywin offered to get her another drink when he hopped up to go to the bar. When he returned, Sansa was speaking with Kevan and his wife Dorna, who was curious about life in Winterfell. “And what drew you to King's Landing?”

“Well, university to start with. The business law faculty of KLU is widely regarded as the best. Then I just got attached, I suppose. _I know the feeling_ thought Tywin as he put down the two drinks in front of them and settled in to observe. “The weather is much nicer of course and I could scarcely have asked for better career opportunities.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled. Tywin's chest swelled a bit at that. It meant something to him that she thought so highly of his company, especially after all that had happened with Robert. “But more than anything I guess I just began thinking of my life in King's Landing as the next chapter, while Winterfell was my childhood - a wonderful childhood don't get me wrong - I've reinvented myself in the years I've been away and I wouldn't change it for the world. It doesn't hurt that I'm much less conspicuous in King's Landing than in the North. Starks in the North attract almost as much attention as Lannisters in the South.

“Mmm, I hate it,” said Dorna earnestly. “It's terrible feeling like fodder for the masses. It's why I try to spend as much time as I can in Lannisport. There's few things worse than feeling like you can't go about your daily life without someone taking secret photos of you.” Tywin hated the media interest in his life. He would escape to Casterly Rock when he wanted his privacy, which was more and more often these days.

“That’s the beauty of somewhere like Casterly Rock,” said Kevan.

“Yes I was just thinking that.”

“Oh, I've heard it's beautiful there,” Sansa turned to Tywin and smiled as she said it, wanting him to understand she meant it as a compliment. Tywin couldn't take his eyes off her and his mind was already grasping at plausible reasons to invite Sansa to see _the Rock_. Thankfully, Kevan spoke up.

“Yes, it's quite something. Big enough for complete privacy but surprisingly homely once you get inside.” 

After dinner, Sansa once again navigated the way through their conversation with the Daynes about the latest hotel that they had bought and refurbished as a pod hotel for tourists and traveling business people. Once they had walked away and they were out of earshot, she turned to Tywin, “it's actually a very interesting idea these pod hotels. Can't say I'd ever want to stay in one myself, but I am curious about their popularity.”

“It rings far too close to the layout of the morgue for my liking.” His face belied the fact that he was completely serious and wasn’t trying to be funny. Sansa laughed heartily and he looked at her in wonder. She seemed perfectly happy to spend the evening by his side. Much of the time was spent in conversations with others but every so often the crowd would clear and they would have some moments to themselves.

When the Yronwood’s excused themselves and Tywin looked around he saw that at last the crowd was starting to thin. “Can I offer you a lift back to the hotel?”

“Actually I was thinking about walking back. It's a lovely night.”

He tried to mask his disappointment at such a swift rejection, but she spotted it in his eyes. _Was this really happening?_ It could have been the wine talking, or the festive spirit, but before she could second guess herself, she said, “Any chance you'd like to join me?”

“Certainly. I imagine the view would be quite exquisite.” He was only half talking about the moonlight on the ocean and he was certainly not looking anywhere near the ocean when he said it.

* * * * 

They walked in companionable silence for a while. Sansa had enjoyed the evening very much so far and walking along the waterfront with him was enough to set her head spinning. She focused on the conversation they were having to keep herself from floating away on a torrent of nerves and rushing blood. He had been candid with her yesterday about Joffrey and she hadn’t really had a chance to respond properly to what he’d divulged.

“I appreciate you explaining what happened with Joffrey. I certainly didn't expect you to, and you needn't worry very much about my opinion on things, but I do appreciate it.”

“I'm sorry that it caused you alarm. I could tell there was something bothering you. You stopped feeling comfortable around me. You stopped smiling at me. You've only very recently taken it up again.” He looked at her meaningfully and she responded by, appropriately, smiling at him. 

“I was afraid it might be because you've stopped being disgusted by my behaviour and my family and decided I’m rather a lost cause and you feel sorry for me.”

“Ha, well it's not that. Do I feel sorry for you? Maybe a little, but not much, Tywin. You made your bed and now you have to lie awake in it.” He stopped walking and looked at her sternly. For a minute she thought she'd badly misjudged their level of informality. But then he smiled at her, so softly it made her heart melt a little.

“Yes, that pretty much sums it up, I'm sorry to say.” She turned towards the ocean. The moonlight was dancing on the waves.

Sansa took his silence as an indication that he had said his piece for the moment. “I'm not disgusted by you. I think perhaps I tried to be for a time, but it just wouldn't stick. I ended up deciding that you're _complex_ ,” she flashed him a cheeky smile, “and that hides all manner of sins. It made me feel much better about the fact that I actually feel the opposite of disgust for you.”

 _Thank the Gods_ , he thought to himself. “Well allow me to inform you that you've not been the only one losing sleep over the nature of your feelings. Truth be told, I might care more about your opinion than anyone else's.” He looked at her solemnly to make sure she knew he was deadly serious. Her face was on fire and she couldn't have spoken if she tried to, so she just smiled back at him and hoped to God he'd keep talking in that sexy voice of his so that she could gather herself.

Just then, there was a flash in his peripheral vision and sure enough he turned to see a woman in dark clothing taking photos of them with her phone. He scowled at the photographer and then turned to Sansa. “Is it alright if we head back? Vultures, the lot of them. I'm sorry about that Sansa.”

“That's alright I know what it’s like when I head back North.”

“Well, I have some very comprehensive court orders in place to try and prevent it, but there's always a few who are either totally ignorant or don't mind risking it. I wouldn't have thought a picture of us talking in the darkness would be worth 6 months in jail and a $10 000 fine, but certain media outlets will pay quite a high price for the right shot. Enough to compensate them for their troubles.” His face spoke volumes of bitterness and anger about his lack of privacy. The relaxed and intimate atmosphere between them had all but evaporated. She wanted to do something to bring him back to her, but she had to forcibly stay her hand from reaching out for his, lest they give any other would-be paparazzi more magazine fodder. At this point, she was pretty sure where their evening was headed and it made her feel emboldened to know that her attraction to him was far from unrequited.

She leaned close in beside his ear and whispered, “We'd best wait until we are back at the hotel for anything more eye-catching, then.” It took considerable willpower for him not to throw her over his shoulder and run. Sansa could only walk so fast in her heels though and she was fairly sure that prolonging things would only heighten the experience to come. Needing something to take his mind of the blood roaring through various parts of his body, Tywin continued their conversation, “The photographers usually aren't too bad here in Dorne, but I confess it is usually enough to make me think twice about doing lovely, wistful things like walking home from dinner. In this case, the offer was too good to pass up, of course.”

He’d never known time to pass so slowly as it did that night. They maintained a suitable distance from one another as they walked through the lobby of the hotel, not that it stopped a few of the desk staff from passing them a curious sideways glance. Despite the late hour, the elevators were quite busy – Saturday night in the festive season being what it was. All he could think about as he stood there was all the places he wanted to put his hands on her when he finally had her out of the reach of cameras and prying eyes. When the lift finally opened and he pushed the button for the top floor, it occurred to him that he might be being just a bit presumptuous, so he let his hand hover over the button for the 12th floor as well, where Sansa’s room was. He turned to her and silently asked the question. She shook her head gently and smiled that smile that was just for him.

“Thank the Gods,” he breathed just loud enough for her to hear and smiled back.

When they stepped out of the lift, he waited impatiently for the doors to close before immediately drawing her into his arms. She looked at him with just a hint of nervousness and said, “Are you sure about this? I’m quite a bit younger than you, you know?”

“That’s not entirely my fault. Watching you get around with Harrold Hardyng for the last two months has taken years off my life.” His lips were warm and soft when he pressed them to hers.


	10. Chapter Ten

When they stepped out of the lift, he waited impatiently for the doors to close before immediately drawing her into his arms. She looked at him with just a hint of nervousness and said, “Are you sure about this? I’m quite a bit younger than you, you know?”

“That’s not entirely my fault. Watching you get around with Harrold Hardyng for the last two months has taken years off my life.” His lips were warm and soft when he pressed them to hers.

His hands were on her shoulders but when she moaned and sunk in close to him he moved one to cradle her head, carding his fingers into her hair and the other around her waist. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and she immediately let him in, absolutely lost in the feeling of it all. He delved into her mouth with smooth, persistent strokes of his tongue and she clung to him for all that she was worth.

When they came up for air, she looked perfectly dishevelled and after pausing briefly to look deep into her eyes and seeing exactly what he wanted in there, he set to work trailing kisses from her jaw down to her collar bone and back again. He focussed on the left side first and then came back to the centre where she stopped moaning in pleasure for long enough to grasp his face in her hands and kiss him soundly, this time taking command of his mouth with her own. When next they broke apart, he went to work on her right side and when he got to the one thick strap of her dress he touched his fingers to it, moving it just slightly.

He was asking her permission to proceed and if she hadn't already been wild at this point that subtle act of respect would have been enough to tip her over. But she had decided some time ago that she was going to completely embrace this, what she suspected would be the most pleasurable experience of her life so far, and when she felt him there, ready to start undressing her, she throatily whispered his name. It was husky, seductive music to his ears and he lost no time sliding the strap gently from her shoulder.

He kissed his way across the newly exposed territory, noticing the sprinkling of freckles. “Beautiful,” he paused for long enough to say it and it affected Sansa such that she offered him a shy smile which peeked out as she chewed gently on her bottom lip. She looked him in the eyes for longer than a moment and was completely satisfied that there was no deception there. Instead there seemed to be the same depth of emotion that she herself was feeling. She grabbed onto the front of his shirt with both hands and kissed him with passion. It was wet and warm and full of the want that had been building for many months now.

She worked her way down through the buttons of his dress shirt, stopping every so often to run her hands over the newly accessible planes of his chest. Each time she did this she was rewarded with a moan that was steadily becoming more like a growl as she began work on his belt buckle. He carefully unzipped her dress at the side and let the material slide down her body, leaving her wearing a gorgeous strapless bra and matching skimpy thong. “Unwrapping you is the most exquisite experience I’ve ever had.” He paused to undo the clip at the back. There was that honeyed gravel again and this time it was whispered into her ear as he planted more kisses on her neck.

It was such a novelty to her to have someone treat her with such reverence. It made her heart race uncontrollably that he touched her like she was the most precious thing he'd ever laid his hands on. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and as she watched it fall he picked her up with strong, firm hands and moved her to the bed. She leaned back on her arms and watched him with a seductive smile as he removed his pants and joined her. Once again their lips met in a sensual tangle and she wrapped her arms around him, running her hands up into the short hair at the back of his head and then skating down across his shoulders, over his back and when she got as far down as her hands could reach she kneaded his bum with both hands, pressing their bodies together more firmly and eliciting the most delicious sound from Tywin's throat. Feeling bold, she then traced the band of his boxer briefs with elegant fingers and ran her hand over the long, hard length of him. This time they both moaned and their lips parted for just long enough for her to whisper, “I can now confirm that _everything_ about you is quite impressive Mr Lannister.”

“Quite impressive eh?” He wore a cheeky, boyish smirk. “Perhaps I'll be able to convince you to raise your quite to a very, Miss Stark.” He moved his attention now to her breasts.

“You'll find me amenable to negotiatio.....ohh God, Tywin.” He had taken her left nipple into his mouth and was nipping and sucking at it while his other hand caressed and massaged the right side.

She tangled her hands in his hair and raked her fingertips over his scalp as he moved from one breast to the other. When he started trailing kisses down her stomach and lower she could hardly contain the desire for him to be _there_. She knew her thong would be soaked already and this seemed to please him immensely when he used an expert finger to remove it. “My glorious Sansa, so wet for me.” She was on fire and when she felt him part her folds and lick all the way along her she briefly recognized that this was going to be the fastest orgasm of her life. The feeling was extraordinary and she bucked up into him as he worked her into a frenzy with his tongue.

When he sensed that she was on the edge he paused for a moment and kissed the insides of her thighs, letting the whiskers of his beard tickle her most sensitive place. “Oh gods, please Tywin. I need.....” He knew very well what she needed and without further ado he sucked her swollen, throbbing nub until she cried out in pleasure. He held her in place while her body convulsed and kept sucking her all the way through her orgasm.

As she lay there coming down from her high, she was vaguely aware of him removing his briefs and rolling on a condom. Then he was there in the cradle of her thighs and she kissed him, soundly, searingly as he slid inside her. He was big, bigger than she'd ever had before and she couldn't keep the expression of surprise off her face when he filled her so completely. It took her breath away for a moment and he stilled above her with a look of such adoring care that it almost brought tears to her eyes. She knew in that moment that he would stop if she asked him to, at any point, no matter how much he wanted it. “Don't you dare stop.” That made him grin. She kissed him and simultaneously squeezed his hips, using her thighs to push him upwards and onwards.

“As you wish, my lady.” He acquiesced, rocking into her gently as he worked up to a steady rhythm. The air around them was thick with heavy breathing and sounds of utmost pleasure. She hooked her legs around his waist to start with and then as they both lost themselves and the pace quickened he reached down with one hand and moved her legs upwards so that her feet crossed in the middle of his back. The feeling was absolutely sublime and Sansa was having a hard time not crying out all kinds of declarations of love while this man gave her the kind of pleasure she'd only ever dreamed of. “Ahh Sansa, you feel incredible. You are incredible.” Turns out she wasn't the only one getting swept away.

“This is good. Sooo good. Oh Gods, Tywin.”

As much as Tywin wanted to do nothing but this for the whole night, he started to feel himself rolling towards his release. As his spine started tingling and his rhythm began to unravel, he moved his hand to just above where they were joined and rubbed her glistening nub with his index finger. It was only seconds before Sansa clutched hard at his shoulders, pulling herself up into him and making the most arousing combination of cries and whispers that he had ever heard. When she found her release he felt it, saw it and heard it with every fibre of his being. Her hot, wet womanhood clenched around him like a vice and it was all he could do to push deep inside her once more and make his own set of roaring, choking exclamations.

Even if she hadn't been experiencing the most wonderful sex of her life, Sansa could have forgiven anything when she heard him roar in pleasure and whisper her own name in her ear over and over as his body unravelled above her. He was careful as ever with her as they recovered, making sure to keep his weight on his own arms and she buried her fingers in his hair as he rested his head in the space above her shoulder. She let her other hand sweep up and down his back, warm and slick with sweat. Once he'd caught his breath he rolled over and went to dispose of the condom. When he returned he also had a warm, damp cloth, which he offered to her first. Moments later they were cleaned up and he gathered her into his arms once more. After a few gentle kisses she happily rested her cheek on his chest. His heart was racing and it was both comforting and exciting. “Should I stay tonight? I don't have to if you're not comfortable with it.”

“I'm perfectly comfortable with it,” he replied, “I am loath to part with you.” He brought her hand up to his lips and was stroking her hair with his other. There was a tiny, realistic part of Sansa's brain that gently reminded her that somebody that good at bringing a woman pleasure probably had brought lots of women pleasure over the years, and it did take the shine off things a bit, but not enough to stop her from falling into a peaceful slumber.

Tywin meanwhile, did not fall asleep so quickly. Tonight had been a revelation for him on several levels. He had scarcely believed he stood any sort of chance with Sansa Stark and yet here they were. Even before the sex he had enjoyed the evening immensely. He hadn't brought her to dinner as his date and yet they had more or less behaved that way. She never seemed interested in moving very far from him and he enjoyed their private conversations and took pleasure in watching and listening as she spoke with others. To say that the sex had been amazing was understating things. They were more than compatible and Tywin would spend as many pleasurable hours buried inside this incredible woman as he possibly could. But therein lay the problem. He had no doubts that she had enjoyed herself just as much as he had but far from being a revelation, great sex was probably something that she enjoyed fairly regularly being 25 years old, gorgeous and on the dating scene. Granted he had heard her give a less than favourable review of Harry Hardyng, but he was only one man.

Tywin's major point of insecurity was that Sansa Stark was perfection and was in the prime of her life. What were the chances that she would now contemplate a commitment to monogamy with an aging warhorse when she had young, virile stallions popping up all over the place looking for her attention. She had the rest of her life to think about, and there was much more of hers left than his. So, despite the fact that he had his goddess of love and beauty in his arms it wasn't a wholly restful sleep for Tywin Lannister that night. His mind was devoted in equal parts to firstly coming up with a strategy to convince Sansa to never leave him and secondly agonizing over whether that was fair to her at all.

The curtains in Tywin’s master suite were sheer and when the sun rose over the Narrow Sea it wasn't long before the morning light was streaming in on them. Tywin woke first and couldn't help but marvel at the auburn hair that had spilled onto his chest in the night. Sansa had stayed close to him despite presumably waking up a few times just as he had. He took that as a good sign. There was a gentle stirring beside him. “You know, I think I have a love hate relationship with sunrises. On one hand they are spectacularly beautiful and yet on the other, I am almost always wishing I was still asleep when I'm watching them.” Sansa’s voice was husky and sexy as she slowly sat up beside him to have a better look out the window. 

“I don't suppose there's anything I could do to make you feel better about being woken so early?” There was a twinkle in his eyes and his lips were curling at the sides. “Coffee, a bath perhaps?” He was planting kisses across to the tip of her shoulder and she could feel him smiling.

“Hmmm, well I do love good coffee and I imagine the bath in this suite of yours is ultimate luxury, but I think there's something else that could make me feel even better.” She turned to face him and when she smiled seductively, he raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. She spun her body around and crawled up the bed, stopping when her legs were on either side of his hips. She lowered her head as he raised himself up and their lips met deliciously in the middle. With one hand supporting himself and the other threading into her hair, he caressed her bottom lip with his mouth and then ran his tongue along the top one. She granted him entry and even moaned for him as he took his first slow drag through her mouth.

The kissing was just as excellent as the rest of it. Sansa could scarcely believe that they were so incredibly compatible. Compatibility in the bedroom was the one thing that was always left to chance in a relationship. There was no way to really know until you tried it and there were few things more devastating when you found someone you truly had a connection with only to find that you just couldn't make the fireworks between the sheets. This though, this was something else. Neither one of them was wearing any clothes still and so while he kissed and sucked his way down her throat and across her chest, she was sliding her hips back and forth over his rapidly hardening cock, coating him in wetness. They were just the right height for one another and it took very little effort for Sansa to lift herself up high enough to slowly, sensually take him inside her. Tywin was more than happy to let Sansa dictate the pace. He watched in considerable awe as she flung her head back and rode him, clutching his shoulders and mewling every time she hit the bottom. Every so often she'd pause and grab his face in her hands and kiss him passionately as she ground herself on him and as she'd pull away he would half groan and half whisper her name into her ear.

When he felt her thighs starting to shudder he placed one hand under her bum and the other on her hip and changed their angle so that he could start to control their movements. He received another one of those glorious kisses as thanks and Sansa wrapped her body flush around him, running her fingers through his short hair. Thank the Gods for his arduous fitness routine, because it was only sheer strength that allowed him to keep up a steady rhythm as his body moved nearer and nearer to release.

In amongst the delicious noises that Sansa was making, she suddenly made one of surprise. “Oh my God, Tywin.” It wasn't the first time she'd used those words but it was the first time they sounded like she’d found the needle in the haystack. Then she looked at him, pleadingly and cried, “Oh yes. Yesssss!” She flung her head back and he thrust up into her over and over with the energy of a man half his age. For a brief moment he was worried that he'd go before she got there but then she cried out spectacularly and clutched at him like she had last night and he willingly surrendered as she milked him dry.

“My exquisite Sansa,” he said into her hair as she clung to him and he held them both up.

“Sufficed to say, that has never happened to me before.”

“Is that right? Well I suppose if I couldn't be your first, being your best will have to do.”

That made them both laugh and he lay down on his back with his hand underneath his head. Sansa crawled into the space under his bent elbow and nestled in, loving the smell and the feel of him. “Do you think it's permissible for us to just stay like this all day?” He said as he wrapped a strong arm around her.

“Hmmm, well I think the Martells might be a bit offended if we don't turn up for lunch. Actually they probably wouldn't mind if I wasn't there but you'd definitely be missed. Maybe you could bring me back some take away?” She looked up at him and grinned and he laughed into her hair.

“I pride myself on being able to avoid bad deals, Miss, and that one is rotten, I'm afraid. I think our own people might notice too if we don't surface. Tyrion would have a field day.” This made them both stop for a minute and take stock of things. How were they going to handle this when they were out in public? Tywin wished he could see Sansa's face to gauge her thoughts. He took her silence as a sign of some trepidation. “I'm perfectly happy to play this however you would like Sansa. If you want to keep this private then that's what we'll do.”

“Oh, well no I don't have any real problem with people knowing, although it is only quite fresh isn't it and the sort of people we'll be mixing with today aren't exactly the discreet type. I don't really go in for all the drama, Tywin. I'd hate for us to have all of that attention on us while we're just getting started.

 _Getting started, are we?_ He did his best to look nonchalant, but he couldn't suppress the small smile that tugged at his lips. “That's settled then. This shall remain our business alone until such time that we wish to change that.” He was rubbing small circles on her back with a soft warm hand and when she yawned he realised they'd better get up lest they fall asleep again. Would you like to have a shower while I make us a coffee? I can ring through to room service and have them send up breakfast.

“Oh that would be lovely. I do feel quite hungry. I haven't expended that much energy between dinner and breakfast since my clubbing days, she said with a cheeky wiggle of her eyebrows.”

“Well you're very good at it, perhaps you ought to try it more regularly.” He punctuated each of his words with a kiss on a different part of her face. At last he came to her lips and she lathed her tongue once, twice three times into his mouth.

“Don't worry, I plan to.” She wriggled free of him and hopped out of the bed. “For now though, the shower.” He was wearing a ridiculously satisfied grin as he watched her.

“Eggs on toast?

“Mm sounds great. Maybe with some mushrooms too?”

“Done. And do you mind plunger coffee?”

“Plunger is fine with me!”

“Off you go then,” he tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom and watched her gorgeous bum as she walked away.

This was how mornings should be spent, he thought to himself as he found a dressing gown and wandered out to the kitchen. He wondered whether Sansa was feeling as content as he was about what had happened between them. He was completely unused to finding it so easy to spend time alone with another person. Most of the people in his inner circle were exactly the sort he disliked spending time with. Apart from his brother and sister in law, Tywin was surrounded by self-indulgent, unproductive, amoral family members and business associates. They were almost always less intelligent than they thought they were and seemed to think they were on this earth to make other people do their bidding for them. Spending time with Sansa felt valuable though, and building a relationship with her would surely be a very worthwhile endeavour. She took great pride in doing things for herself and therefore hadn't forgotten how pleasurable it could be to simply share quiet time doing things like having a hot coffee with her lover and eating a nicely prepared meal. Twyin had no doubt that his mood, his outlook on life and his personality, (not to mention his libido) would all improve greatly under her caring attention.

* * * *

“You look deep in thought,” he said as he walked over to where she was curled up on the sofa gazing out at the incredibly blue water.

“Well, you've given me rather a lot to think about,” she said in a tone that was mockingly accusatory, and pulled the neck of her dressing gown open at the top. “For example, what am I going to wear to lunch that will hide these marks on my chest?” He smirked a little at that. “And I'm feeling a bit guilty about the fact that you've paid for a very nice hotel room down the hall that's seen hardly any use.”

“Well I didn't want to appear over confident.” He put her coffee on the table in front of her and leant down to place a kiss on her head and then one on each of her shoulders. “I was hoping that we wouldn't need your room,” he said softly.

She put her mouth to his ear. “So was I.” She felt his smile. She grabbed her coffee and made her way out onto the balcony. “The view is breathtaking.”

“Mmm, yes it is rather.” She smiled warmly, if a little coy, and held out her hand for him to join her. They stood resting against the stone railing sipping their coffee and sharing their previous experiences of Dorne.

“I've been here twice before but I've mainly stayed around Sunspear.” As she spoke she gestured in the direction of the road they could see winding its way around a cliffside and off into the distance. “I've never done the East Coast Road but I'm sure it must be terribly scenic.”

“I don't expect that lunch will be a drawn out affair,” his mind forming a plan as he spoke, “we all saw each other last night after all. How would you feel about going for a drive this afternoon? The sunset here isn't until about 9pm. We could drive the East Coast Road for a few hours and find somewhere to have dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful. Are you sure you can spare the time though? You don't need to be meeting with anyone this afternoon?”

“Oh no, the Martells are famous for very strictly adhering to a four-day working week. Anyone who tries to engage them in business Friday thru Sunday is immediately cast off their books.”

“Ah, that explains why our meetings with them are always at the beginning of the week,” she said, remembering a curiosity she’d had about the Dornish property tycoons for some time now. “Not exactly great work ethic, is it?”

“No, but on this occasion I couldn't be happier about it.” He drew her into his embrace and fixed her with a gaze that was made entirely of heat and happiness. She couldn't help but pull her bottom lip between her teeth for the briefest moment before it became otherwise engaged.

* * * * 

Sansa found lunch to be rather good comic value. Most of the Martells were desperately hung over after apparently staying out into the wee hours of the morning. Everyone, including themselves, was keen to be out of there as soon as possible and it made her wonder why they'd all bothered in the first place. She supposed there were social graces to observe. Kevan and Dorna mentioned that they were off to a local winery for the afternoon, which sounded lovely and gave Sansa half a mind to suggest to Tywin that they do something similar tomorrow. He had changed their booking to two nights, after all, and she was keen on making the most of their time together before they had to head back to King’s Landing.

By 2:30pm Sansa was in the passenger seat of a Mercedes convertible tying her hair back in a messy bun while Tywin put the top down. He had booked the car that morning and had it delivered to them - you could do that sort of thing when you were him, apparently. Never in a million years would Sansa have imagined herself here - and she'd certainly spent plenty of time fantasizing about the two of them together. It was a glorious afternoon and the sunlight was shimmering off the water. It didn’t take long for them to reach the outskirts of Sunspear and before long they were winding around a peninsular with nothing but the vast blue ocean stretching out in front of them. 

Sansa had her right hand resting on her thigh and while she was looking out the window, admiring the scenery, Tywin reached out his own hand to cover it. Her attention now back in the car, she beamed at him and threaded her fingers between his. He could scarcely remember a time when he'd felt this good. He already knew that he was attracted to her and that he enjoyed her company more than anyone else's, but to also find that she felt something towards him and that they were incredibly sexually compatible had his mind awash with optimism. He was a man who loved a challenge and right now he considered his challenge to be convincing Sansa Stark that this could be her future. Together. With him. Blissfully happy.

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap. I thought I might need another chapter to round it off, but this feels like a good place to leave it. Thank you so much for reading. I've enjoyed writing this story immensely. I hope to have another to post before too long. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all!


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